Cecil Von Zarovich Book 1: Blood on the Snow

### Chapter One: The Dragon of Belwyn

*Storm clouds once again crept their way over the black, haunted forests of Belwyn. This had become extremely common ever since Belwyn had been dragged down into the Abyss, colloquially known as The Dark Lands. What was once a country of lush plains, farmlands, and beautiful green forests, had been offered to the Dark Gods as a sacrifice, and turned into a nightmarish land of sinister wastelands, ruined and diseased abandoned plantations, and black, dead, and gnarled woods. On a cliff overlooking the village of Vandelheim, one of the last remaining human settlements in Belwyn, stood Castle Zarovich, home to the Von Zarovich clan.*

 *Vigo Von Zarovich paced back and forth the hospital hall. A cigar in his lips, he burned through it like there was no tomorrow. Not even a minute later, he lit another cigar, and quickly started to burn through that, almost seeming to chew on it. Off to the side, however, his brother, Strahd Von Zarovich had a much more relaxed demeanor.*

"Brother, she’ll be fine. She’s stronger than you give her credit for" Strahd said, his accent keeping a calmness to his voice.

"Damn it Strahd, you don’t get it!" Vigo snapped back. "You know what we are, what our curse does to people!" His eyes almost flashing red for a moment. Strahd paused a moment before speaking again, still remaining calm.

"You are right, brother. Our offspring and their mortal carriers rarely do survive this world. But you don’t give your wife enough credit Vigo. Was she not the one who slew The Great Werewolf of the Blackwoods? Was it not her who killed King Garossan in a duel and placed Ravon on the throne when she was a mere mortal? Was she not the woman who saved the village of Vandelheim from Morgault the Bloodletter?" With each question, Vigo lowered his head even more, knowing that his brother was right. He knew he worried too much, his wife would be fine, and they would go home tonight with a healthy baby. Sure, the baby would carry his curse, but that was a sacrifice Vigo and Alexandra were willing to make. Strahd cracked a smile. "To be fair though, you do have a right to be worried." Strahd said. Vigo looked up at his brother, confused. "I’m not a father, you are. You have a right to be worried about the welfare of your family. But you need to remember, you don’t need to protect your family all on your own. We’re Zaroviches, god damn it, we always pull through." Vigo sat down where his brother sat a minute ago, ashing his now dead cigar, as a weak smile cracked along his face.

"You’re right brother, I just…." Vigo trailed off, still staring into space.

"I know, Vigo, I know…" Strahd said, turning to face out the window, gazing over the shadowy forests of Belwyn. As time went by, Strahd finally broke the silence. "So, have you and Alexandra decided on a name for the little one yet?" He asked, trying to keep Vigo focused on the future. Vigo, sat back, deep in though.

"Well, we threw a lot of names around. She mostly left that to me, she was never good with coming up with names, I stuck with the name Vitale for a while, perhaps Miriam if it’s a girl, but I’m not sure. I had a good name a few days ago, but forgot it fast, I just can’t think of it right-" As Vigo tried to remember, a nurse burst into the room.

"Master Vigo, it's your wife, she…." As she struggled to find the words, Vigo ran past her, Strahd close behind. Entering the room, Alexandra looked like she had been in the fight of her life.

"How… how are they..?" Vigo muttered, staring down at his wife, holding a small baby with greyish skin.

"Lady Alexandra looks to be okay, but the baby, he…" The nurse stammered.

"Give him here, quickly" Vigo said. As he looked down on his child, he could see the boy growing weak, like some sickness was overtaking him.

"A knife, a scalpel, anything with a blade. Quickly." Vigo said, not looking away from the boy.

"M-master Vigo?" The nurse stammered again.

"NOW!!" Strahd yelled, startling the nurse. As she handed Vigo a small scalpel, Vigo took it, cutting a slit in his hand and dripping blood into the baby’s mouth.

"You are a Zarovich. The guardians of King Ravon, of this land. We will always fight damn it, so fight like a Zarovich." A few moments later, the baby opened its piercing red eyes, and cried out. Everyone sighed in relief, as Vigo held the baby close. "From this day forth, the heavens shall shake and the armies of hell shall tremble in fear! The world will know the name: Cecil Von Zarovich! Son of Vigo and Alexandra, THE DRAGON, OF BELWYN!!"

### Chapter Two: Rosa

*In the winter, the forests of Belwyn, particularly the Zarovich lands seemed to snow especially hard, giving a reprieve from the sorrowful black leaves of the forests, but the cold was still enough to drag anyone’s mood down.*

*Cecil walked along the battlements of his family castle. The cold wind blew through his hair, shaking him a little bit, but he stood fast, the chill not bothering him, likely due to his own blood running even colder. As he reached the end of the battlement, he hopped off, brushing the snow off his tunic. The front door of the castle lightly opened, and out stepped a woman with flowing white hair, wearing a  large fur cloak.*

 Cecil, honey! I’m heading into town If ye want to come along! The woman called out, as Cecil rushed over to the woman excitedly*.*

 "Are we going to the baker’s mother? Can we? The boy said, eyes glowing with excitement.

 "And to think I was gonna cook soup again tonight… Yes, little bat, we can head over to the baker’s. The woman chuckled. Alexandra hoisted the young boy onto her shoulders, still able to carry the boy with ease, despite his growth in the 4 short years since his birth.

The walk down to Vandelheim was always a brisk one, especially going downhill. Cecil hopped off his mother’s shoulders, and decided to race her. Alexandra debated rushing full speed down the hill, but decided to humor her son, running just fast enough to fall behind him.

"I win!" Exclaimed Cecil, his eyes a bright red color, magically dulling to a dull grey color as they entered town. Alexandra chuckled as she lifted her son onto her shoulders again and gave him a hood to put over his head. Walking into town, people seemed to be in overall good spirits, despite the dark clouds looming over the land. The people here often tried their best to forget about being dragged down into the dark lands.

"Can we see dad while we’re here in town, too mom?" Cecil asked.

"Sorry kiddo, think your dad said he had to go to castle Ravonspire for a few days." Alexandra said.

"Aww, he’s never around though." Cecil sighed.

"I know, little bat, he tries, though. He said he might bring back a present though!" Alexandra said, Cecil lighting up as she said this.

When they reached the baker, Alexandra headed inside, Cecil hopped off her shoulders to go play, and try to avoid drawing attention to himself, given his true nature. During the snowfall, Cecil would often like to build a snowman, or some other snow effigy (most often a bat or wolf). He’d often find a small stick and pretend to sword fight, pretending to vanquish the foul snow beast. Today though, was different. While searching for a stick, Cecil could hear what sounded like a sobbing sound. Looking around behind a small house, he could see a figure dash behind the house. Looking at the baker shop for signs of his mother coming out, he knew she would likely be in there a while, so he decided to go check it out. Right when he got there though, he noticed some other figures going behind the cabin, 2 boys and a girl, both a few years older than the crying figure, a young girl, looking to be maybe a few months younger than Cecil. Staying out of sight, Cecil could overhear the children, not fully being able to make out what they said, he could tell those kids were definitely picking on the girl though. Finally, Cecil stepped out of hiding.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, the bullies looking up from the younger girl. "L-leave her alone!" He yelled, holding back fear.

"Oh look, a big strong knight came to save you, Rosa." The oldest bully teased, pushing the bullied girl to the side. "And what are you gonna do, huh? You gonna fight me?" My dad’s the mayor of this town, pasty, he’ll throw your… uh" With each insult, Cecil stepped back, but all of a sudden, he looked up at the bully, with piercing red eyes, these one’s a lot more fiery and rage filled than earlier. Without another word, the bullies took off. Cecil backed off a bit, looking down at the little girl on the ground, and outstretched his hand. Helping the girl to her feet, she stumbled a bit when she stood up, but Cecil managed to catch her in time. She took a step back, looking him over. Expecting her to see him for what he was, he got ready for her to scream "Vampire!" and run away, but to his surprise, she didn’t. She even seemed to smile.

"Th-thanks!" The girl said, in a small but cute voice. She had short, red hair and hazel colored eyes. "I like your eyes." she said, looking up at him now.

"Oh... thank you…" Cecil said awkwardly, he didn’t really expect to get this far. Cecil could hear his mom start to call for him. As he said his goodbyes, the girl quickly introduced herself.

"I’m Rosa." she said.

"Cecil." he said. "I live up the hill, in the Zarovich estate. Will I see you later?"

"Sure!" Rosa said, smiling, as she skipped away. Cecil couldn’t help but smile to himself, as he heard his mom call for him again, he ran back to the bakery.

"Where’d you run off to, little bat?" Alexandra asked, smiling.

"Nowhere." Cecil said, smiling, as they begun the walk back to Zarovich Manor

### Chapter Three: Of Blood and Fathers

*Springtime brought little relief to the cold lands of Belwyn. While the snow stopped and the temperature would go up a little, there still wasn’t much sunlight to help plants grow, and the trees remained an inky and dull black color. Springtime mostly just brought rain, giving people another reason to stay home.*

"Dad?" Cecil said, knocking on his father’s office door. As he heard no response, he sighed, and pressed his head on the door. "Come on King Ravon, give my dad a break, will ya?"

"Something wrong?" a voice said from behind Cecil, causing him to jump. Turning around quickly and staring up, his gaze met with the curious gaze of his father, Vigo Von Zarovich. Cecil chuckled a bit as he relaxed.

"How do you always do that, I swear you can just teleport around this place." Cecil said, laughing a bit. Vigo let out a chuckle as well.

"Perhaps I do... " Vigo said cheekily, beckoning his son to follow him. "You could too, you know. You hide your powers, but you could be capable of a great many things."

"Yeah? Like what, world domination?" Cecil joked. Vigo let out a small chuckle.

"Come." He said. Cecil followed his dad out to the castle courtyard, past the statues and gardens, into a small dueling area.

"Dad, why are you doing this? We both know I’m never going to need this."

"Were you planning on painting for the rest of your days, Cecil? There will come a time where you’ll have to defend yourself. Belwyn isn’t a safe place, especially for a child, vampire or not." Cecil sighed, but relented.

"Fine, what did you have in mind?" He asked.

"Simple, strike me." Vigo said. "Show me the power that flows through your veins!" Cecil shook his head, he had never actually done anything like this before, and had no idea what he was doing. Deciding to just try at random, he tried to just think about random stuff and open his palms at Vigo. But to no avail, Vigo stood there, waiting for something to happen.

"Such… power, my son…?"

"Of course, I get this damn curse and nothing cool from it." Cecil groaned.

"Hmm, I have an idea… get angry." Vigo commanded"

"Uh, what?" Cecil asked.

"Your power has yet to awaken. All it needs is that one, little, push." Vigo said. "That girl, Rosa."

"Aw come on, don’t bring her-"

"She’s just been attacked by a vampire, she’s crying out for help." Every word Vigo spoke angered Cecil, as he felt something building up inside of him. "She’s just been stabbed, she calls your name, Cecil!" And at that moment, Cecil’s rage peaked, and in a frenzy a bolt of black and red energy shot out of his hand, into Vigo’s chest, knocking him back. Catching his breath, Cecil stood there, regaining his composure. "Very good, my son, ve-"

"That was fucked up, Dad!" Cecil shouted. "You did NOT need to go that far!" Vigo smiled a bit as Cecil stormed away, but quickly held his chest in pain.

"Ow. Fuck." he winced.

Approaching the door to the castle studio, Vigo paused for a moment, before knocking on the door.

"Come in." a voice said. As Vigo entered, he found himself surrounded by various half finished paintings, empty paint containers and worn out brushes. Cecil sat in front of a large canvas, a half finished landscape painted on the linen. Cecil weakly smiled as his father entered.

"Hey kiddo, I’m... sorry. About earlier." Cecil turned to face his father, looking at him weakly.

"I know you and mom, want to protect me, want what’s best for me, but I'm not really a kid anymore dad, I’m almost thirteen."

"I know, I just, this, gift, curse, whatever you want to call it. What you have, it doesn’t make you evil, son. It’s a tool, it can be used to protect, or to cause harm. I know you’ll make the right choice, but I want you to know how to make that choice."

"Dad, how DID I become a vampire?" Cecil asked, putting down his paintbrush. Vigo sat down, and sighed.

"I’m… not really sure. By all accounts you should have been born… human, like the rest of us. Immortal, but human. Our family's curse affects us in many ways, perhaps when you were born, your curse manifested as vampirism? That’s the only explanation I have, even after years of research. But human or not, son, your mother and I both love you, dearly." Cecil and Vigo both stood up, and embraced.

### Chapter Four:What Lurks in the Blackwoods

*Over the next three years, the land of Belwyn changed little. In an attempt to expand the town of Vandelheim, loggers and woodsmen tried to cut into the forest, but many ended up missing, and the forest seemed to repair itself. One of the few surviving lumberjacks reported seeing red eyes watching him in the forest, and unusually high amounts of bats.*

 Cecil and Rosa sat at the edge of town, looking into the forest. Rosa shuttered a bit as she gazed into the darkness, as the gnarled, black trees blocked any light from entering the forest.

 "You uh, you think this is safe?" Rosa asked, looking to Cecil.

 "Probably not.." Cecil replied, trying to use his vampiric senses to see into the darkness. They both halfheartedly looked at each other, before entering. After walking a ways in, they both stopped. Staring up at the twisted branches, Cecil piped up.

 "So explain to me again why we’re doing this?" he asked.

"I guess I’m just tired of being bullied around, they dared me to spend a night in the Blackwoods and I didn’t want to seem like a coward, so I took the challenge." Rosa said.

"You know they’re gonna forget in like a week and go back to making fun of you, right?"

"I know, I just... need this victory over them, just to prove to myself."

"I was about to suggest we loop back around and try to just hide in the mansion, but I’m going to guess that’s the coward’s way out?"

"I’ll keep it in mind, but right now, no, we should be alright." Rosa said, looking less scared now and more confident.

After a few hours of exploring the woods, Rosa and Cecil stopped to set up camp. All they had managed to carry was a tent, a day’s worth of rations, and some fire making supplies. As they were clearing out space for a camp, Rosa spoke up.

"Thanks again for doing this with me. I probably wouldn’t have been able to do this alone."

"You’re braver than you give yourself credit for, you know." Cecil replied.

"Heh, thanks Ceec, I just-"

But as she spoke, Cecil heard something from far away, and motioned for her to stop. His eyes starting to glow a fiery red color, Cecil looked around, in his hand a bit of red energy starting to form. Cecil looked back and motioned for Rosa to duck down and hide. His blood slowly turning to ice, Cecil saw a pair of glowing red eyes dimly visible from behind a tree. When he looked back to check on Rosa, he turned back to see the eyes vanish. He wasn’t sure what was worse, hearing the creature coming, or the fact that he couldn’t hear anything anymore. As he turned again to check on Rosa, he turned back, only to feel a pale white hand grab his throat. As he looked down, he started into the blazing red eyes of a pale skinned, gaunt looking vampire.

"And what have we here I wonder…..?" The vampire hissed, with a hungry look in his face. "A vampire and a human, together? Unusssual." Cecil struggled a bit, before looking his attacker dead in the eyes, and saying

"You wanna see something else unusual? This!!" As he said that, he blasted a bolt of crimson energy right into the vampire’s face. Dropping to the ground, Cecil only had a moment to get up, before the vampire roared at him, and resumed his attack. Tackling Cecil to the ground, he attempted to claw into his throat. As Cecil struggled to kick the vampire off, he heard something land nearby, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a metal tent stake. Grabbing it, he rammed it into the vampire’s chest, kicking him off. As his attacker struggled back to his feet, Cecil stood up, and lunged forward, grabbing the stake and driving it further into the vampire’s heart. In a blind rage, Cecil lunged for his attacker's neck, and tore into it with his fangs, ripping out the vampire's All that remained of the attacker was a pile of bloodied ash, and the splintered wooden stake. Cecil collapsed onto the ground, catching his breath and wiping the blood from his mouth. Rosa hurried over, and embraced him, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"You remember that suggestion you had, about sneaking back to your house?" She asked.

"Yeah?" Cecil replied.

"Let’s do that, that’s probably smart."

Taking a moment to collect themselves, Cecil and Rosa hurried through the woods to find the trail to the Zarovich estate. As it was now night (or what could be considered night in a land where the sun hadn’t shone in over a century), Rosa made sure to stay especially close to Cecil, as he was the only one who could see where he was going.  Finally arriving at the estate, Rosa and Cecil entered into his chambers, and tried to get some rest after what had happened.

### Chapter Five: The Ringing of Blades

The next morning, Rosa waited a little while before leaving. Whether she felt safer around Cecil, or to give the town bullies more respect for staying in the woods, no one was really sure. After she left, Cecil began to retreat to his studio. However, before he entered, he could hear his mother’s voice call to him.

"What’s up?" he asked, nonchalantly.

"Sooo, how were the Blackwoods?" She asked

"They uh, they kinda suck."

"Mhmm, anything happen last night."

"Sorta… Is it that obvious?"

"I’m your mom, it’s my job to know, but also you come back with bruises and scratches on your neck, and I’m gonna take a shot in the dark here and say Rosa didn’t cause those."

"Haha, nothing I couldn’t handle."

"I’m sure, but what happens when your powers fail you?"

"What did you have in mind?" he asked

Alexandra motioned for Cecil to follow her. As they walked outside, Cecil saw they were walking towards the dueling arena.

"Ah crap, not this shit again." He said. As they entered, Cecil sighed a bit. "So is this gonna be like that time dad taught me to use my powers and just told me to get angry? That wasn’t fun."

"Haha, no." Alexandra said, as she opened a long wooden box, and threw a long, steel sword into Cecil’s hands.

"Sure, your flashy powers can come in handy, but nothing beats real, reliable steel." Alexandra said, drawing another sword, giving it a wide swing. "Come on, give me your best shot."

"Uh mom, shouldn’t we be using like, practice swords?" Cecil asked.

"I didn’t raise no damn coward, Ceec." Alexandra chuckled. Cecil let out a laugh, and lunged to attack. As his blade met his mother’s, a loud clang erupted from the clash.

"Isn’t that a lovely sound? Been too long since I’ve had a good sword fight!" She yelled. As they went in for another attack, Alexandra parried Cecil’s swing, and followed up with a swing of her own. Ducking under the slash, Cecil dodged backwards, planting his feet in a more defensive stance. As his mother now rushed in for an attack, Cecil blocked, and pushed his sword into hers, trying to knock her off balance. However, she was stronger than he was, and countered it by pushing him down to the ground. "You’re good. A bit unrefined, but still." She chuckled.

"I get it from you." Cecil said, catching his breath as he got up.

As they continued to practice throughout the day, Cecil spoke up after a bit.

"Hey mom, tell me again how you met dad?" He panted

"Huh, I guess we never told you that story." She replied, as they both took another break.

"Well, as you know, my dad was a general in King Ravon’s army, and I was sort of his lieutenant. Vigo handled a lot of logistical stuff for the army, costs and strategy and everything. We crossed paths a lot during the war, grew close. When my father was killed, and I took over fighting, I was called in to help kill the old king, Garossan. Only I survived that, but damn was it a fight. Didn’t think the old bastard would have had it in him. When all was said and done, King Ravon offered me a reward. Now, let me backtrack here. When I say your father and I grew close, we… fell for each other. But we weren’t really allowed to, a nobleman and a commoner wasn’t really allowed, even if I was a decorated soldier. So when Ravon offered me a reward, I decided to take the risk and ask for Vigo’s hand in marriage. He seemed a bit iffy on it, but I think Vigo and your granddad, Barov convinced him."

"What do you think would have happened if he had said no?"

"Vigo danced with the idea of eloping, I think if Ravon had forbade it, he would have gone through with it. Sure we didn’t really have a plan, but Vigo knew a decent bit about improvising. We would have figured something out. But sometimes, things go according to plan."

Cecil chuckled at her last few words, as he stretched his neck, and got ready for another round. Alexandra and Cecil locked eyes for a bit, both seeing the fire in each other’s gaze. Both charging forward, they met blades, and slashed at each other, parrying and almost seeming to dance. And Alexandra could not have been prouder.

### Chapter Six: Anorius

*There wasn’t much of a difference in the seasons of Belwyn. It was either freezing cold and snowy in what could be considered winter, or mildly cold in what passed for summer. During the "day" the moon seemed to shine stronger, giving some light to help the townspeople see, but at "night", the moon would dim, and people would need a torch to help them see.*

 Over the next eight years, Cecil, now at eighteen years old, had grown into a man. His white hair had grown past his shoulders, and his skin had over time turned to a dark pale color, almost grey in darker lighting. He had grown tall, and taking on more pronounced, gaunt features like his father, but the white hair he had inherited from his mother.

Venturing into town, Cecil performed his usual town ritual. He gazed over the local baker’s latest bread, which had been taken over by the baker’s son in recent years. Buying some fresh bread, he roamed around town, touring the shops, and buying a flower for Rosa, as she had been talking about starting a garden. She was all he could think about anymore, how lovely she had become. While they had flirted and had the occasional moment, both of them were afraid to admit to the other their true feelings. But Cecil hadn’t given up hope, he knew one day he would have to pop the question, and ask for her hand in marriage.

Finally stopping at Rosa’s house, he knocked on the door, but was surprised to see her father open the door.

"Evening sir, I wa-" but before Cecil could finish, Rosa’s father spoke

"I know why you’re here. And the answer is no. I won’t allow you to come near my daughter again." Anorius spoke in a gruff tone, but this time was angrier than usual.

"S-sir?" Cecil stammered.

"I know what you really are, you blood sucking beast. You may have her fooled, but I won’t let my little girl become your next meal, Zarovich. Out of respect for your family and what they’ve done for this town, I won’t kill you where you stand, but come near my daughter again, and I won’t hesitate to put you down like the animal you are!"

"Everything I’ve done, has been for her sake… I-"

"Save it for someone who cares, demonspawn!" Anorius shouted, as he slammed the door. Cecil took a few steps back, dropping the flower in the snow.

"Rosa…" He sighed, as his body transmuted to a black mist, and vanished.

Alone in her room, Rosa sat, tears streaming down her face. Her father had destroyed the one thing she had going in her life, and she could only watch as everything came crashing down, in the span of about a minute.

### Chapter Seven: Sanguinar and Noire

Cecil spent the remainder of the day in his studio, surrounded by his finished and half finished paintings. There was one in particular he stared at, a painting he had made for Rosa, depicting a red rose with bat wings, in a sunny field. He had always meant to be with her, and to try and create a better life with her. As he sat down, he stared at the canvas he had come so close to finishing, of a large golem, made of bone. He had wanted to finish the painting, but couldn’t muster the energy to even lift the brush. He gazed on the painting for what seemed like hours, until a sudden fit of rage caused him to summon a bolt of energy, and blast the painting into nothingness. As his rage subsided, he slumped down in the corner, and watched the crimson energy fade from his palm.

"What if… he’s right though? I am a monster..." He thought to himself.

Hours passed, and Cecil could hear his studio clock ring midnight. He slowly lifted himself from his corner, and made his way to his chambers. Collapsing into bed, he lay there, restless, for another hour. As he stared up at the ceiling, he recounted all the times Rosa had visited him in his loneliness. The time they had hid in his house after the vampire incident. The games they’d play as kids. That time they tried to make cookies and ended up setting fire to the kitchen, which Cecil gladly took the fall for. Everything he had done, he did to protect her.

As he stared longingly, a sudden noise came from his window. Cecil didn’t have it in him to get up.

"Probably a bird or something." He thought. But after a few seconds, another knocking sound came from the window. Confused, he finally decided to check it out. Opening the window and looking around, he didn’t see anything, until a voice came from below.

"Hey, Ceec.." Looking down, Cecil locked eyes with Rosa’s golden-hazel eyes.

"Rosa?" Cecil stammered, without wasting a second he misted his way down to the ground, appearing in front of the girl. "W-what are you doing here? Your dad-"

"Fuck him, I needed to be with you, and if he doesn’t want me being here, well the I missed the part where that’s my damn problem." She said, taking Cecil’s hands into her own. "I love you, Cecil. I don’t want to be apart." They both smiled, and embraced, Cecil’s vampire wings forming on his back, and wrapping her in his embrace, as they disappeared in a cloud of black mist and reappeared in his bedroom. As they reformed, Rosa shook herself for a bit. "I’m never gonna get used to that." She chuckled. As he let out a small laugh himself, they both collapsed onto his bed, Cecil holding her in his embrace.

The next day, Cecil and Rosa slept in, kept warm by the other, and both unsure of what the day had in store for them. Trying to distract herself from what she had done, Rosa eventually couldn’t handle it.

"Cecil, you know we can’t stay here, right? My dad’s gonna find out, and I don’t know what he’ll do. I brought this on you, oh god…" As she started to tear up, Cecil embraced her.

"It’s alright, my parents will know what to do, we’ll figure something out. We’ll make our way to Ravonsburg, live with my great grandfather, he’ll let us stay there." Rosa smiled a bit at this.

"Alright, but I just... need to speak to my father, one last time, I need him to see reason. I’m all he has left after my mother died."

"Are you sure? I can’t stop you, but please, come back soon."

"Okay." She smiled, and departed the estate.

A few hours passed, as Cecil readied himself to explain what had happened to his parents, and his plan in case things didn’t work out. Finally, he entered the reading room, where his father and mother had gathered for the evening. Cecil told them of what had transpired with Anorius, Rosa’s visit, and their backup plan to flee to Ravonsburg. Cecil wasn’t sure what his parents would do, but he braced for the worst. To his surprise though, his mother chuckled a bit.

"You got this idea from me, didn’t you?" She said, giving Cecil a sly look.

"I might’ve." He replied

"And you’re sure about this?" Vigo asked, lighting another cigarette.

"I don't know, but if it everything goes wrong I'll figure something out." Cecil said, staring at his father. All three sat in silence for a minute, until Vigo spoke up.

"Alright, we’ll try to visit you when we can." Vigo said. Cecil smiled and nodded his head. "But first, I have something for you. A parting gift, if you will." Vigo said, and motioned for Cecil to follow him. Entering Cecil’s studio, Vigo spoke. "As you know, I’ve been researching vampiric abilities. I’ve discovered one recently, involving familiars." he said.

"Yeah? Then why are we in my studio and not out in the courtyard?"

"To call a familiar to your side, it needs a form to take, something to base itself on. I thought your paintings would be an excellent idea."

"Wait, we’re bringing my paintings to life? That’s… amazing!" Cecil exclaimed.

"You know draconic, yes? The language of vampires and demons? Call your familiar by name, and call it into existence."

Cecil stared a bit, settling on his painting of a bat. Summoning his crimson energy, his eyes burned red, as he commanded: "**Sanguinar! Lleisgar vur voenllyl sia meage**!" As he spoke, the crimson energy radiated with glory, as a flash of light blinded them both. When Cecil could see again, he noticed on his shoulder a large bat, with small, beady red eyes and a white mane down its back.

"Gahhhh, hold on, uh, gimme a minute. Being suddenly propelled into existence is a trip, leaves you with the worst bodyache!" The bat spoke, stretching in weird positions. Finally, taking off from Cecil’s arm, he looked at Vigo and Cecil. "What’s poppin, friends? I’m Sanguinar, but you probably already knew that. At least you do, fang-boy. I don’t know about chain smoker over there. You getting all this?" Vigo chuckled as the bat spoke.

"Now, I’m going to go back to reading Cecil. Just a word of advice though, try to limit the familiars. Two is probably the safest bet." As Vigo left, Sanguinar landed on Cecil’s shoulder.

"Another one, huh? What ya gonna pick, Ceecee?" The bat said. Cecil looked around the room, until he saw another painting, this one of a large, black wolf. "Of course! Every boy dreams of having a puppy!" Sanguinar said. As Cecil raised his hand again, crimson energy forming once again, he cried out

"**Noire! Lleisgar vur voenllyl sia meage**!" Another flash of light, and Cecil regained his vision, as now standing in front of him was a large wolf, with a flowing black mane that seemed to be made of smoke, and glowing, amber eyes. As he looked upon his new creation, Cecil felt a sharp pain on his shoulder, and noticed a tattoo of a black raven burning into his skin. On the wolf’s shoulder, the same tattoo formed.

"Ooh! An Eidolon! Those are basically more powerful summons, able to evolve in unique ways! You learn fast, huh fang boy?" Sanguinar said. Looking around, the wolf let out a howl, before sitting down. Looking up at Cecil, the wolf suddenly began to pant happily, and raised his paw. Cecil shook it, and the wolf’s tail began to wag. Retreating to his quarters, Cecil collapsed onto his bed. His familiars had been called back into him, to give them some rest. He checked the clock, and it was about an hour after Rosa said she’d be back. Looking out his window, Cecil looked out over the town of Vandelheim, only to notice: the town was in flames!

### Chapter Eight: Deathlord Morlund

 Appearing in the town square, Cecil couldn’t help but look around in horror of what had befallen the town. Many of the buildings had collapsed, and had been engulfed in the inferno. Looking over, Cecil spotted a body lying on the ground. Rushing over to check on the person, he turned the body over, expecting to see burn marks, but instead saw two bite marks on the person’s neck, and lacerations across the throat. Cecil flinched as he saw this, and immediately stood up.

 "Rosa?!" he called out, but to no answer. Spawning a mass of red energy in his hand and readying for battle, Cecil broke into a full sprint towards her house.

 Upon arriving at her house, however, Cecil was horrified to see the door already open and damaged, with claw marks all over it. Cecil burst inside, and called Rosa’s name again. Instead, he heard a groan coming from the corner of the entry room, and found Anorius, bleeding and grasping his chest in pain. Rushing over and kneeling down by him, Cecil attempted to tend to his wounds, but his hand was swatted away.

 "Don’t touch me, you bloodsucker, you had something to do with this!" Anorius growled.

 "Don’t talk, you’re only making it worse." Cecil replied, trying again to put pressure on the wound, Anorius relenting this time. "What… what happened here?" Cecil asked.

"It was.. Morlund. The Vampire lord of Bloodmoon Keep. He and his ilk swarmed here, took the whole town by surprise. Rosa, I told her to run, to hide in the church, and try and gather as many civilians as she could." At this, Anorius coughed up a large amount of blood, and rested back into the corner. "Listen, you probably don’t like me, and I sure as hell don’t like you, but right now, the only thing that matters to me is Rosa, and you’re her only damn hope. I can’t stop you after I die, but please, make sure she’s safe."

"Come on, Anorius, you-" But as Cecil said this, Anorius shoved a large, silver longsword into Cecil’s hands, and coughed a bit.

"I’m not making it out of this, it’s up to you now, god damn it! Every second you waste here is precious time, now go!"

Cecil silently nodded, and began to speak, but Anorius shooed him away. Rushing out of the house, Cecil broke into a full sprint towards the chapel, mist stepping around collapsed houses and rushing through burning rubble.

As he approached the church, he was relieved to see it looked okay, but almost instantly, the bloodied corpse of a man came crashing out of the front window. Not stopping to check, Cecil kicked down the door and entered the church, sword in hand.

At the altar of the church, stood a tall, burly, grey skinned Vampire, with short, slicked back hair, and a large scar next to his eye. And in his hands, he grasped Rosa by the throat. As Cecil burst in, he turned to see who had intruded.

"Ahh, here you are at last, Zarovich." He said, in a raspy, brutish voice. Still clutching the woman by the throat, Cecil stood strong, sword in hand, a spell readied in the other. "Alright, suppose I have time for one more game." Morlund grimaced, as he dropped Rosa onto the ground. But as she started to crawl away, he turned, and crushed her leg under his boot.

"You’re gonna die for that!" Cecil shouted at him. But Morlund only let out a laugh, and grasped a huge greatsword, and pulled it out of a lifeless body.

"Alright then, Zarovich, let’s see what ya got."

Cecil rushed forth, firing a bolt of crimson energy, only for Morlund to block it with his greatsword, and follow up with a wide swing, only barely being blocked by Cecil, who had now taken his sword into two hands, trying to match Morlund’s strength. Morlund raised his boot, and kicked Cecil back a few feet, as he struggled to his feet, his hands began to glow with more red energy.

"**To my side!**" he called out, as his familiars, Sanguinar and Noire manifested around him. Noire growled, and readied for battle, while Sanguinar flapped near Cecil’s head.

"Okay fang-boy, here’s the deal, you’re fast but he’s strong, dodge his attacks and slash him when you can, you won’t be able to block him. Stab him quick, cuz strength ain’t your schtick. I got your back, cuz dying is whack!" Sanguinar took off, and began to spit bolts of red energy into Morlund. Noire charged forth and pounced, baring his fangs. Morlund, however, backhanded Noire into the wall,  and readied for Cecil’s assault. Swinging his greatsword downward, Cecil dodged to the side, and tried to swing into Morlund’s arm. But his armor was too strong, and deflected his swing. With another swing to his side, Cecil dodged under the sword, and managed to get in a stab to Morlund’s hip. As Morlund readied another swing, a bolt of crimson energy hit his face, as he turned to see Sanguinar hovering over him.

"Ah shit.." Sanguinar said, as Morlund swung into him with the flat of his blade. "Smashed like a buuuuu-" Sanguinar yelled out, before slamming into the wall. Morlund turned only to see Noire pouncing again. But to no avail, as Morlund swing straight through Noire’s chest, bisecting him. Noire slowly turned into a cloud of black smoke, and vanished. Continuing his swing, he caught Cecil’s blade, now in a blade lock, Morlund looked over Cecil, a stream of blood now running down the young vampire’s face. Morlund let out a sinister grin, and parried Cecil’s sword into the air, catching it with his free hand. Red energy immediately sprouted from Cecil’s hands, as he dashed backwards, and fired bolt after bolt into Morlund’s chest. Each bolt only slowed him down a bit though, and as Cecil bumped into the wall behind him, Morlund dashed towards him. Cecil tried to dodge out of the way, but too late, as he felt a searing pain in his shoulder. Morlund slowly slid Cecil’s blade into his shoulder, and as it reached the hilt, twisted it, causing immense pain. Cecil tried to pull the sword out, but to no avail. Morlund lifted Cecil's sword from the ground, slowly walked back towards the altar, and picked up Rosa in his hand.

"You should try cutting back sometime, Zarovich. Might save you some trouble. Give bloodlust a chance!" and as he yelled this, he bared his own fangs, and tore into Rosa’s neck. After a few seconds, he tossed her onto the ground and stabbed Cecil's sword into her chest. Cecil could only scream as he continued to pull out the sword from his shoulder. Morlund slowly walked towards the door to the church, but stopped. "See ya around, Zarovich! Why don’t you stop by Bloodmoon Keep, sometime? Join us for a nice feast!" And with that, Morlund stepped outside. Outside, Morlund’s muffled voice was heard calling out "DeMarkov, Rakhan, we’re leaving!"

A few seconds later, Cecil finally pulled the blade out of his shoulder, and collapsed onto the floor. Crawling towards Rosa’s body, he turned her over, only for her to weakly cough. Holding her head up with his only usable arm, she weakly let out a laugh.

"Hey, look at that, I get to spend the rest of my life with you." she said, barely smiling.

"Hang on, we can get help Rosa, I can-" But he was cut off, by Rosa planting her hand on his face, shushing him.

"You already have…" She let out, as her hand fell away from his face. She let out one final breath, and no more. Cecil tried to call her name, but to no response. Sobbing, he could only cradle her body, as all he could hear outside was fire, and screaming.

### Chapter Nine: Unfinished Business

"You know we can’t stay here, Morlund’ll be back, and he’s coming for us next." Vigo said.

"I don’t fucking care! I’ll kill him like I did his bastard of a father, and everyone else who’s tried to fuck with our family!" Alexandra snapped back, clutching her sword in hand, fire raging in her eyes.

"Alexandra, please. You know you won't survive facing down all of Clan Bloodmoon! Besides, King Ravon needs us, he’s preparing for his campaign into Ravenloft again. There's nothing left in Vandelheim..." Vigo pleaded.

"And Cecil?" she asked.

"He’s already made up his mind, he’s staying here in the Blackwoods, he’s got some.... unfinished business."

At the local tavern, six figures sat, drinking. One group, two lumberers, sat at a table in near silence, slowly downing their drinks before they had to return to work. Another group, three regulars, sat at the bar, one drunker than the rest, making a scene. And one figure at the end of the bar, alone and unspeaking. His long, white hair, covering his face, wearing black noble clothing, armored shoulder plates, and a black cape running down his back. At his side sat a silver cane, and in his hand, a glass tankard, half full with wine. The bartender sat on a stool near the drinks, cleaning a mug, but carefully eyeing the stranger.

Suddenly, the tavern door burst open, as two figures, cloaked in shadow and with bright, piercing red eyes walked in. The two groups of men quieted down, and eyed the vampires, some with fear, others with contempt. The two vampires slithered to the counter, a sinister grin on their faces.

"Sssoo bartender, do you have your… blood wine special today?" One of the vampires hissed, giggling a bit.

"Uhm, n-no? No, milord. We ran out…" The bartender stammered. Even though the bartender was a rather large and intimidating figure, he was a mewling kitten before the two vampires.

"What?!" The first vampire roared. "We could sssmell it from outside! What do you-" As he spoke, he turned towards the lone figure at the bar, quietly drinking the last of the bloodwine. "Youuu!" The vampire hissed, as he slowly made his way over to the lone figure. "Perhaps instead of bloodwine, tonight I’ll drink your blo-" but as he spoke, the lone figure slammed the tankard on the counter, grabbed the vampire’s head, and slowly slashed his throat. Throwing the shattered glass tankard to the floor, he grabbed his silver cane and impaled the vampire through the heart. The second vampire hissed, readying his claws and baring his fangs. The figure pulled his cane out of the vampire, flicked it and as the cane transformed into a sharp silver longsword, decapitated the second vampire with one swing. As the two vampire’s bodies hit the floor, the figure walked away, throwing a small pouch of gold onto the counter.

"Th-thanks for that." The bartender said. "But there will be more, and they’ll be pissed about thi-"

"Then I’ll kill them fucking all!" The figure roared, turning towards the bartender.

"All of them? Who… who are you?"

"I’m Cecil Von fucking Zarovich, the Dragon of fucking Belwyn!" he shouted, and swung open the door. Staggering outside, he suddenly winced, and grasped at his shoulder, the wound still troubling him. Panting, he turned, and stumbled towards the Blackwoods. Wandering into the forest a ways, his vision began to blur, as he collapsed near a tree, began to sob, calling out Rosa’s name. As he did so, he curled into a ball, folded his arms, began to sob tears of blood, and waited to die.

### Chapter Ten: The Barnes

Cecil awoke to a bright light shining in his eyes. Looking around, he noticed he wasn’t in the Blackwoods anymore, but rather a vast, verdant green field. It was actually bright out too, a large ball of fire in the sky. He recalled this from history books, something called… the sun? He hobbled forward, looking around, until he spotted something in the distance. A young woman, with long, red hair, wearing a blue shirt and a leather cuirass on top of it.

"Rosa?" Cecil asked. Starting to run towards the figure. As he approached her, she seemed to not acknowledge Cecil. Confused, Cecil gently placed a hand on her shoulder, turned her around. But as he did so, the sky began to darken, the ground began to freeze, and the woman turned around to reveal a skeletal face, with fangs covered in blood. As Cecil tried to scream, he found no noise could be heard. As he continued to try, he finally let out a sound, and awoke screaming, this time in a small cottage. Cold sweat ran down his brow, as he gasped for air. Looking around, he saw a small kitchen, an old man staring at him, and an old woman preparing a meal by a fire.

"Hmm, you’re finally awake?" The old man said, his voice sounding rather jolly, and high pitched.

"Just in time for dinner, I made an old family favorite!" The old woman piped up, a similar jolly voice to the old man. Cecil slowly raised out of bed, stumbling a bit, but noticing his shoulder hurt a bit less.

"I hope you don’t mind, but your clothes were so nice, so I tended your wound and sewed up your shirt for you." The old woman said, smiling.

"Th-thank you." Cecil said weakly. "But, who are you?"

"Nobody important. Most folks call us the ol' Barnes folks." The man said, relaxing back in his chair. Cecil began to walk towards the dining table, as he walked he stumbled a bit, pulling his cane to him and began to make his way over. "Heh, now you youngsters have to use a cane nowadays? I’m almost ninety, and I’ve managed to avoid it." Silently, Cecil sat down at the table, where a spot had been set for him. "So who’re you, fella? You got a name?" Cecil paused a moment, before speaking.

"Cecil. Nobody important." The old man let out a hearty laugh. Cecil looked past the man, into the woods. "You live here, in the woods?" Cecil asked.

"Nowhere else to go." the old man replied "‘Sides, we’re close enough to Vandelheim." The old lady brought over a large dish, a large chicken dinner with various gravies and sauces around. "Real question was, what were YOU doing in the Blackwoods?" the old man asked. Cecil thought about what to say for a moment, until the old woman piped up.

"Dear, leave the poor man alone, he’s still gathering his thoughts, the poor dear." Cecil didn’t respond, but smiled at the couple. They ate in silence for a bit, before the old man spoke.

"Living in the Blackwoods ain’t so bad. Plenty of game to hunt, back in my youth, and it doesn't take too long for food to arrive from town, though a bit longer since the attack. Only issue we get is the occasional vampire. At this, Cecil paused.

"Vampires?" Cecil asked.

"Mmm, they like to harass us, but we stay quiet enough, and they eventually leave. I guess elderly blood isn’t as go-" but before the old man could finish, a sound could be heard from the roof, and cackling could be heard outside. The couple ran to the corner, and embraced each other, looking up at the ceiling in horror. Old man Barnes motioned for Cecil to come over, but Cecil stared at the door, thinking for a moment. Finally, another laugh could be heard from outside, and Cecil slammed the table, grabbed his cane, flipping it in his hand to transform it into it’s sword form, and stormed outside.

Stepping into the clearing where the cottage lie, Cecil was surrounded by 5 vampires, one dancing on the roof. Standing in the middle of the 5 motionless, Cecil stared at each of them, rage in his eyes. "Looks like the Barnes found themselves a little hero." One of the vampires joked, sending the others into laughter. Cecil felt Sanguinar manifest on his shoulder, and heard him speak. "Looks like the old folks are watching us, better put on a good show, Ceec." After a few seconds, one of the vampires rushed towards Cecil, claws at the ready. Dodging at the last second, Cecil slashed into the vampire’s back, leaving a trail of blood in the snow. As the vampire screamed in agony, Cecil swung again, across the vampire’s face, and once more into the vampire’s chest, killing him. The vampires all roared in unison, and charged at Cecil. Sanguinar took off, and began to spit more bolts of blood red energy. Dodging each of their attacks, Cecil slashed more and more at the vampires. As one attacked pulled a knife and began to run at Cecil, he felt a large force tackle him from the side, as Cecil’s wolf familiar, Noire pounced on him, and began to dig into him with razor sharp teeth. As he dodged under a vampire’s claw swing, Cecil noticed the rooftop vampire trying to dig his way through the cottage roof, and fired a bolt of red energy at the vampire, sending him flying into a sharped tree branch, impaling him. As the last two vampires tried to kill Cecil, he stabbed one of them with his sword, and grabbed the other by the throat, digging his own claws into the vampire’s neck, and held him in place until an audible snap could be heard. Standing in the clearing, catching his breath, Cecil could hear a clap from the woods. Out of the shadows emerged a tall, rather muscular vampire, with dark grey skin, almost blue in the moonlight. He had no hair, and wore a suit of leather amor, with red accents.

Cecil stood there, still panting, blood splattered across his face. "Well done, Lord Von Zarovich, excellent show!" The tall vampire spoke pleasantly, but Cecil was certain the vampire spoke with condescension. Without a word, he slowly pointed his sword up towards the figure. "No introductions? How rude!" The vampire scoffed.

"Fine, who the fuck are you?" Cecil growled, still pointing his blade at the vampire.

"I am called DeMarkov, chamberlain and assistant to Lord Morlund."

"You… you were there, the day he attacked Vandelheim!" Cecil roared.

"Ah yes, that. Bit of a sordid affair, that. Too bloody for my taste, but who am I to question the Deathlord’s desires?"

"Why are you here?" Cecil asked through clenched teeth. He couldn’t tell if he hated DeMarkov due to his mannerisms, or didn’t mind him as much due to him seeming more pleasant than Morlund.

"Lord Morlund is planning another great hunt, and extends an invitation. He hopes you’ll accept."

"Invitation? What the fuck? He killed the only woman I ever loved, and he thinks I’ll join him?"

"The Deathlord wants to believe you could be turned to his side, to give in to your rage, and become a powerful ally. I told him it was folly to attempt this, but when the Deathlord has his mind set on a task, it’s difficult to sway him otherwise."

"Then tell your master my answer is his head on a spike! The only hunting I'll be doing tonight is for his cold, black heart!"

"Hmm, a shame. Terribly sorry about this, then. You see, Morlund instructed that if you decline, I was to kill you." As he said this, DeMarkov held out his hand, and from it, emerged a rapier, with a crimson blade. Cecil swung his blade down towards the ground, and rushed towards DeMarkov, leaping forth and slashing at him. Barely moving, DeMarkov seemed to dash out of the way, now floating a foot off the ground. With every swing, DeMarkov continued to evade Cecil’s attacks, until Cecil faked him out, pretending to leave himself open for DeMarkov to try and stab him. Cecil did his own dash, and retaliated by cleaving deep into DeMarkov’s chest. Leaving a trail of blood in the snow, DeMarkov fell to a knee.

"Ooof, I know when I am defeated." Cecil rushed forth one more time to try and finish off DeMarkov, but DeMarkov snapped his fingers, and with a bright flash of light that blinded Cecil, he was gone. Stumbling forward a bit, Cecil now collapsed onto his knees, images of the night Vandelheim was attacked burned into his mind. Images of Rosa, dying and cradled in his arms. And all he could do was collapse in the snow, screaming in agony.

After a minute of silence, Cecil struggled to his feet, and walked back to the cottage. Opening the door, he stumbled inside, made his way, and collapsed back down at the dinner table, taking a deep breath. He looked up to see the Barnes family standing there, smiling at him.

"Well, I guess that solves that." old man Barnes chuckled.

"There’s plenty more, if you’re still hungry." Old lady Barnes said, smiling. Cecil weakly smiled, but stood up.

"I’d love to, but if what that vampire said is correct, I don’t have much time, Morlund is planning another hunt, and I’ll die before he hurts anyone else. But thank you, for everything." Cecil said, bowing his head.

"Then please, take a little for the road?" Old lady Barnes said, grabbing a small parcel and wrapping some food, and placed it into Cecil’s hands. Cecil smiled at her, and thanked her. As he opened the door to leave, he stopped.

"If you ever wish to leave the Blackwoods, and live closer to town, my old family estate is abandoned now. It’s the least I can do. It’s the Zarovich estate, up the hill from town." At this, the couple was shocked.

"Zarovich? You said you were nobody special! Hot damn, I’d have worn better clothes if I was gonna meet a Zarovich." the old man let out. Cecil couldn’t help but smile a bit. "Take care of yourselves." He said, as he walked outside, back into the cold.

### Chapter Eleven: Rakhan

As Cecil sat close to the fire, he couldn’t help but still feel cold, as if his very soul wouldn’t let him feel warmth. He hadn’t slept since Rosa’s death, besides his recovery at the Barnes cottage. Holding the sword close to himself was the only comfort he could feel anymore, that last keepsake from her family. The only time he had to himself anymore would be his occasional rest by the fire on his way to Bloodmoon Keep. Close by, Noire slept close to the fire, and Sanguinar was digging into the parcel of food.

"You sure you don’t want some, Ceec?" Sanguinar said, while chewing. Cecil shook his head.

"Thanks, but, I’m not too hungry." Sanguinar stared at Cecil for a second, shrugged, then went back to eating. Cecil just stared into the fire, its flames dancing and crackling, illuminating the dark forest of eternal night.

After some time had passed and Sanguinar fell asleep, Cecil, still watching the flames, heard a crack come from nearby. Staring up, eyes now glowing, he listened in to try and perceive where the sound was coming from. As he sat in silence, he noticed he could not hear any other sounds in the area, animals or otherwise. After a moment of silence, Cecil rolled away from the tree, as a blade stabbed through the trunk of the tree. The blade slowly pulling out, out of the shadows now emerged someone that looked human, but Cecil had grown proficient at smelling out other vampires. The figure stood at about Cecil’s height, with long black hair, black and silver armor, with a long cape flowing to his boots. He looked Cecil dead in the eyes, and spoke up.

"I was hoping you’d dodge that. Deathlord told me to kill you nice and quick, but I prefer a straight up fight." He said, his voice deep, and  commanding.

"Let me guess, you’re Rakhan?" Cecil asked, sword already at the ready. Noire, now ready for combat after being woken up so suddenly, stood beside Cecil.

"Smart, perhaps you’re as good as Morlund says you are. But we both know I didn’t come to chat, Zarovich." Rakhan said, now readying his blade again. Cecil just leered at him, and waited for Rakhan to make the first move.

"No no, I'll take the soup to go... It was good, really!" Sanguinar mumbled, rolling over in his sleep. Noire let out a loud bark, as Sanguinar shot awake. "Ahhhh! Who the fuck is this- okay we're fighting now!!"

After a few seconds of awkwardness, Rakhan charged at Cecil. Trying to side swing into him, Cecil blocked the attack, parrying it with a slash into Rakhan’s arm. Attempting to follow it up with another swing, Rakhan dodged his second swing, and countered it with a slash to Cecil’s leg. As both warriors clashed, Noire jumped into the fray, attempting to cleave into Rakhan’s back, but was blocked by his armor. Sanguinar flew overhead, spitting down red bolts of energy into Rakhan’s chest. Turning around to slash away at Noire, Rakhan tried to bring his sword down to bisect the wolf, but when he turned back around, Cecil was already too close, and slashed right through his armor, leaving a large trail of blood in the snow. Falling to a knee, Rakhan had to plant his sword into the snow to keep from falling. As Cecil got ready to stab at him again, Rakhan let out a burst of red energy, knocking Cecil and his familiars away. Morphing into a bat, Rakhan flew away, limping along.

"Damn it, Cecil! You let another one get away?" Sanguinar yelled.

"I wanted that to happen." he replied, pointing his sword at a large splatter of blood Rakhan had left behind. "We can use that to follow him to Bloodmoon Keep. Noire!" Noire began to sniff the blood trail, and follow after it.

"Huh, guess you’re not too bad at this, Fang-boy."

### Chapter Twelve: A Trail of Blood Through the Mind

As Noire continued to follow the smell of the bloodtrail, Cecil silently followed behind. As he continued to approach Bloodmoon Keep, images began to flash into his mind. Of his past, his possible future, neither? As he continued to walk, he turned his head to the right and stopped. As he looked out he spotted a clearing, a small pile of ash on the ground, and a damaged and stained metal stake lay in the snow. Staring at it for a few seconds, he continued onwards. With every step, another of these memories would flash in his mind, every sword swing during the day Vandelheim burned, every vampire Cecil put down in his quest for vengeance, every step he took down that dark path.

After an hour or so of walking, Cecil and Noire stepped into a large clearing in the forest, and before him stood a massive castle keep. Tattered red banners were hung from the towers, far too faded to make out a symbol, however. Under the edges of the roof, rows of bats lay sleeping. The air seemed heavy with the smell of blood, and no wildlife could be heard around, except for the screeching of bats flying around. Standing in front of the towering doors, Cecil stared up at the large window looking out over the forest, likely the throne room. Placing his hand on the door, he took a long breath.

The castle doors slammed open, as if pushed by two large, invisible hands. Cecil stormed inside, sword already at the ready. As he stood in the main hall, he looked around a little bit, before conjuring a stream of red energy in his hand. As he stood, he suddenly turned around, swinging his sword, instantly slashing through an ambushing vampire. As he did so, more vampires and monstrous, malformed creatures began to emerge from the shadows, all staring at him with a hungry expression. Five of the creatures charged forth, and leaped to devour him, but instead they fell into the black mist where Cecil once stood, as he reappeared behind another vampire and stabbed him through the heart. As more vampires began to roar at him, he would dodge and evade their swings, slashing and hacking around the room, firing off bolts of red energy to repel more vampire beasts. As he slashed through another creature, he felt a large force push him through a door, as he turned to see a large, grey vampire approaching him. As the brute took another swing to crush him, Cecil rolled out of the way, following up with a slash to the chest, killing the brute. Suddenly, a crash could be heard up the stairs, Cecil disappeared in a cloud of black mist, and reappeared at the top of the stairs, continuing his attack. Walking towards a large set of double doors at the end of the hallways, another vampire tried to ambush him from behind, but without even turning Cecil stabbed him in the chest, turning him to ash.

Slamming the doors open, he now stood in a large observatory, looking out over the Blackwoods. Closing the door and barring it shut, he turned to face a tall vampire staring out the window. Without turning, the figure began to speak. "Hmm, you’re finally here!"

### Chapter Thirteen: DeMarkov

The wind outside pounded on the window, as if howling to be let in. Cecil stood now in the observator, eye to eye with the grey skinned vampire chamberlain he had met only a day ago.

"Hmm, you’re finally here! The Deathlord knew you’d come." DeMarkov said, his voice a mixture of worry and relief.

Cecil just stared at DeMarkov, unsure if he was about to beg for mercy or start trying to kill him again.

"You going to try and stop me?" Cecil asked, sword now pointed at DeMarkov.

"Hmm, I'd rather not. You proved to me in our last battle who is the better. Besides, trying to wash the blood out of my clothes was a nightmare! I am much too busy to go through that again!"

"I thought Morlund would have ordered you to stop me at all costs."

"I believe now that you are here, he wishes to test himself against you yet again. To see how far you’ve come since your last battle. He still believes you can be turned, made into a powerful ally."

"And you? What do you believe?"

"Hmm, Morlund has never asked my opinion on this. He has done some truly ghastly things to you, anyone could have seen this encounter coming." DeMarkov now turned and took a few steps towards Cecil. "Perhaps this is all a sick game to him, revenge on two of his most bitter enemies."

"Bitter enemies?" Cecil asked.

"Ah, you aren’t familiar with the tale of Morgault the Bloodletter?" DeMarkov asked. Cecil continued to stare silently at DeMarkov.

"I would have guessed your mother would have told you… Morlund’s father, a powerful vampire warlord in his own right, ruled over Bloodmoon Keep decades ago. He launched many assaults against the towns of Vandelheim and the now destroyed town of Arglostahd. This was until his battle against a warrior known as the White Wolf, known to you as Alexandra. Single handedly, Alexandra slew Morgault, and drove his clan into hiding. Morlund’s been looking for a chance for vengeance ever since."

"Then I’ll put Morlund down like my mother did Morgault."

"I’m sure you wi- look out!" DeMarkov cried out.

Cecil immediately disappeared and evaded back in a cloud of mist. Standing there, was a heavily bloodied Rakhan, panting, and with a burning red in his eyes.

"I’ll-I’ll kill you!" Rakhan roared.

DeMarkov sighed a bit. "Whatever happened to you ‘preferring a straight up fight’?"

But Rakhan now stood like a ravenous beast, not even listening to reason anymore. Taking his sword, he charged at Cecil again, who readied his own sword. Blocking the first strike, Cecil tried to fight on the backfoot, but Rakhan just continued to swing blindly into Cecil. Knocking Cecil onto his back, Rakhan prepared to bring his blade down onto Cecil, he suddenly stopped, and looking down, a crimson rapier sticking through his heart. Pulling it out, DeMarkov looked down in disapproval as Rakhan’s body hit the floor. Cecil got to his feet, and looked at DeMarkov inquisitively.

"You’ve turned against Morlund?" he asked.

"I don’t serve Morlund to be exact, I serve the throne of Bloodmoon Keep, whomever may sit on the throne. And no, Morlund was clear that you be let through, he wishes to challenge you in your full capacity. Rakhan disobeyed that order."

"And the vampires at the door?"

"Ravenous beasts, truly dreadful. They live only to kill, I suspect the Bloodlord knew he could not keep them from assailing you, so he set them on you as one final test, before the grand finale."

"Finale?"

DeMarkov made his way to the central door, and opened it, bowing his head slightly as Cecil passed, into the throne room of Bloodmoon Keep.

### Chapter Fourteen: What is a Lord Before a Dragon?

As the door closed behind him, Cecil walked forward a few paces, sword in hand, and a quiet rage in his eyes. Looking up towards the throne, he saw Morlund, feasting on a disfigured corpse, long past saving. As he took one last drink, he tossed the corpse aside, and halfheartedly wiped his face.

"So, ya finally showed up! I heard Rakhan trying to kill you in the other room. Jeez, can’t catch a break, huh Zarovich?" Morlund sat there, laughing. As he stood up, he grabbed his greatsword with one hand, and hoisted it onto his shoulder.

"I could do the classic villain speech we’ve read a thousand times, join me or die, good and evil are the same thing. No, you’re not here to talk, you’re here because you want me to suffer for what I did to you, don’t you?" Cecil stood there, gripping his sword so hard he thought it could shatter at any moment. "Nothing to say, eh?" Morlund teased, his own eyes starting to glow red.

"Why?" Cecil let out, still staring up at Morlund.

"Why what, why bother?" Morlund said, locking eyes with Cecil.

"Why did you kill her?"

"Ah, you came all this way, just for that, just for the life of one, pathetic, human? I’ll tell you why, you see this scar, boy?" Morlund pointed to a large scar running next to his eye. "Her damned father gave this to me, humiliated me in front of my whole clan. I wasn’t about to let that bastard live after what he had done to me." Cecil continued to stand there, quivering.

"You did all this, to continue your damn revenge? Out of spite?!" He said, his voice starting to choke up.

"Yup, and it looks like you’re about to continue the cycle of revenge, huh Cecil. How’s it feel, knowing you’re just as bloodthirsty as the rest of us? You’re no better than I!" Morlund said, starting to chuckle.

"Who ever said I was?" Cecil said, looking downward, eyes starting to glow a piercing crimson. Morlund looked at Cecil confused for a moment, then started to chuckle a bit, slowly turning to a laugh. As he did so, he brought his claymore into both hands, readying for combat.

"Shame too, I was beginning to like you!" Morlund exclaimed, as Cecil once again looked up at him. Staring down Cecil as a hunter stares down his prey, he began to rush towards the young vampire.

"Rosa…" Cecil let out, under his breath, his eyes now a piercing scarlet light. As he saw Morlund charging towards him, he too began to run forward, dragging his sword along the ground, leaving a trail of sparks in his path. As Morlund brought his blade down onto Cecil, Cecil raised his sword to block, holding back the warlord.

As the two warriors locked blades, they both began to stare each other down. One with a fiery wrath burning in his eyes, another with beaming excitement. Pushing his sword into Cecil’s he pushed Cecil back a few paces. Readying another swing, Cecil dodged out of the way of this one, charging forth and attempting to stab Morlund. Morlund tried to dodge, but his immense size played against him, and was grazed by the attack. Angered by this, Morlund tried to ram Cecil with his shoulder and knock him down, but Cecil dodged out of the way in a cloud of mist. Looking at Cecil, he instead met with a large, black wolf leaping onto him. Feeling the fangs of Noire biting into his throat, he grabbed Noire and threw him across the room, and as Noire hit the ground, he shook his head a bit before getting back to his feet. Morlund turned towards Cecil, right into an oncoming sword swing, leaving a large gash in his armor, and as he growled, he felt a bolt of energy explode onto the back of his head. As he looked around at Cecil and his familiars all attacking him in tandem, his excitement turned to a roaring anger. A mass of red energy forming in Morlund’s hand, he fired a ball of black and crimson fire onto Sanguinar, who started flying around in a panic. Turning and swinging with all his might, Cecil could not dodge this attack in time, and instead blocked the attack. Sliding under his blade, Cecil’s fingers suddenly sprouted black, razor sharp claws, and dug into Morlund’s chest. Morlund smacked Cecil away, who as he was knocked away, pulled his claws out of Morlund, dripping blood onto the floor. Morlund, with black fire now forming in his hand again, slammed his fist into the floor, creating a wall of fire around him and Cecil, blocking Noire from leaping through.

"Just you and me now, Zarovich!" Morlund growled, as Cecil pointed his sword at Morlund. The two vampires charged at each other, blades clashing and bolts of energy flying in each other’s directions. As Morlund was knocked backwards, Cecil leaped towards him, furiously slashing into him. Morlund, regaining his senses, blocked Cecil’s last attack, and swung again, kicking Cecil’s sword out of the ring of fire. Cecil hastily sprouted claws again, but was grabbed by the throat by Morlund. Morlund angrily looked at  Cecil, before beginning to laugh.

"You ready to die, Zarovich?" He asked, grinning, and bringing Cecil closer to his face, readying his greatsword.

"Of course, you’ve taken everything from me, what’s left?" Cecil said, staring in anger. But suddenly, Cecil’s scowl turned to a weak smile, and began to chuckle a bit. Morlund sort of half confusedly laughed as well.

"But, you, you’re not ready, I can tell. You’re afraid. You kill and spread despair in the name of power, but behind that wall, all you are is a broken lord of nothing, clinging to your last bit of power like it means anything. You don’t mean anything. You’re nothing!" Cecil roared, as Morlund, seething with rage, brought his sword forward to impale Cecil. Suddenly, a sharp pain seared through Morlund, as he suddenly lost all his breath. Gasping for air, he looked down, only to see Cecil’s arm, surrounded by red energy, stabbing through his chest. Trying to bring his sword into Cecil, he felt his strength drain away, as he felt Cecil pull backwards, *tearing out his heart*. Taking his claws, Cecil made one final slash into Morlund’s throat. As Cecil dropped to the floor, Morlund fell, clutching his throat, staring in fear at Cecil. Cecil suddenly grabbed Morlund’s hand and throat, and slammed him to the floor, in his other hand, holding Morlund’s heart. Unspeaking, he stared into Morlund’s eyes, as he crushed Morlund’s heart. Morlund took one final breath, and fell silent. Cecil stumbled back a bit, and fell onto the ground, the wall of fire disappearing. Panting heavily, images of Morlund’s attack on Vandelheim burned in his mind again, as they got faster and faster, Cecil slammed his fist onto the ground, screaming in agony.

### Chapter Fifteen: Absolution

The door opened once more, and the tall, greyish-blue vampire stepped into the throne room, beholding the sight in front of him. After a few seconds, he began to clap.

"Marvellous show, truly spectacular!" DeMarkov exclaimed. Cecil looked up, and turned his head towards the Chamberlain. Slowly getting to his feet, he stretched his hand out for his blade, about to call it to him. "I say, that was quite a battle, are you alright, my lord?" DeMarkov asked. Cecil suddenly stopped, and looked at DeMarkov.

"Lord?" Cecil asked suspiciously.

"But of course, as I said, I serve the throne of Bloodmoon Keep, whoever may sit upon it. You have won the throne through conquest, Lord Zarovich!"

Cecil turned, and looked at the throne. The throne where his most bitter enemy once sat, what had torn his life to shreds. A single tear of blood rolled down his face. After a moment, he raised his hand and fired a bolt of red energy at the throne, destroying it. DeMarkov gasped at this.

"M-milord?" He asked, as Cecil retrieved his blade, and began to walk out of the room. "C-cecil?!" DeMarkov stammered, following after him. "Milord, you-"

"DeMarkov" Cecil said, staring out the window. "Is there a crypt under this Keep?" he asked.

"Y-yes sir, but you have cleared this place of all of its inhabitants, there’s no one left down there!" DeMarkov stammered.

"Good. My first and only command as lord of Bloodmoon Keep is to release you from your service."

"Sir?"

But without a word, Cecil made his way down the stairs.

"Sir, where will I go?" DeMarkov stammered.

"Anywhere you want, return here to live if you want to, it matters not to me, not for long anyway."

"And you, where are you going?"

"You heard what I said to Morlund, I have nothing left, I told my parents I would see this through or die trying. They have already left Belwyn, and where they are, I do not know. I only hope they found somewhere to be happy." As DeMarkov tried to speak, Cecil just continued down the stairs, into the crypt that ran underneath Bloodmoon Keep. And DeMarkov, without a word and in disbelief, stepped outside. He started up at the sky, breathing a bit, knowing for the first time since he could remember, he was free.

Cecil slowly walked through the crypt, towards a large coffin that lay in the center of a large antechamber. Climbing the stairs up to the platform, he forced the coffin lid off. As he stared down into the coffin, his familiars appeared at his side.

"So, you really doing this thing, Ceec?" Sanguinar asked.

"I’ve fulfilled my purpose here, there’s nothing left for me, but the embrace of death."

"Kind of a weird way to die, if you ask me."

"The world is changing, Sanguinar. If one day I am needed, then they can find me here. And if I am not needed, then the world can change without me." As he said this, he lowered himself into the coffin, pulling the door shut over himself. "Rosa…." he sighed, as he closed his eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.

When Cecil awoke, he found himself yet again on that sunny field. It’s verdant green hills covered in flowers. He walked forward, towards a figure he spotted just ahead. Sitting down next to the figure, she rested her head down on his.

"Guess you did it, huh?" Rosa asked. Cecil smiled a bit.

"Yeah…" The two both sat there for a bit, until Cecil spoke. "Is… is this real?" He asked.

"Even if it isn’t, imagine for a second that it is, Ceec." Rosa stood up, and began to walk off. "Goodbye, Cecil." She said, smiling.

"Wait, please, take me with you." Cecil pleaded.

"Heh, silly. You’re still needed. Don’t worry, we’ll be together sooner than you think." And with that, Rosa walked off.As the land around him began to fade away, Cecil took one final breath, and laid back, allowing himself to fade away.

### Epilogue

In a far off land, almost another world away from Belwyn, sat the land of Ravenloft. Through the dark, lifeless halls of the tomb known as Argynvostholt, upstairs the battle could be heard raging, between the singing and clashing of swords and screaming, two figures walked: Syndra, an old witch, dressed in faded purple with a large hat; and Epsilon, a heavily armored, red eyed warrior. Paying it no mind as they passed under the massive, lifeless body of the dragon, Argynvost, the witch and the warrior stopped at a large wall at the end of the burial chamber.

"So, why are we here, exactly?" Epsilon grumbled.

"Lord Strahd has need of \*cough\* beyond this chamber."

"Yeah? and what exactly is here besides musty old tomes and a dead Dracolich?"

"Not what, ensign… who. Now quiet, I must focus." Syndra began to motion a large rune on the wall, slowly rearranging the bricks into a passageway. Epsilon marched behind, checking the bones of the dragon behind him, swearing he thought they twitched. As they entered the hidden chamber, a large, gold sarcophagus lay in front of them, with a symbol of a black raven emblazoned on its cover.

"And now, we wait. Soon enough, the heroes, guided by their protectorate shall reach this chamber, and see what destiny has in store for them." Syndra said, conjuring a small chair for her to rest on.

"Yeah? So, what's the deal with this guy?" Epsilon said, knocking on the coffin.

"A powerful vampire, who lived three centuries years ago, in the far off Dark Lands of Belwyn, our lord's homeland. Strahd has… need of him. All of Ravenloft does, perhaps"

"This big shot got a name?" Epsilon asked, leaning on the coffin. Syndra sat for a second, then finally spoke.

"Cecil. Cecil Von Zarovich."

## Gallery

Cecil Von ZarovichRosa CrowlenfieldDeathlord MorlundDeMarkovRakhanVigoAlexandraSanguinarNoire