Cecil Von Zarovich: Book 3: Eclipse of the Moon

## Act One: Season of Red Leaves

### Chapter One: The Shadowhunters

 *Eversong: a land of warm colors and warmer people. On the outside, it seemed like a paradise. Even the poor and downtrodden of the land led happy lives, celebrating and living in harmony with the land, as if the land itself were alive. But something sinister was brewing. Something had been festering like a cancer on the land, in the year following the reclamation of Ravenloft. Even in this, the brightest of lands, no salvation could be found from the dark presence of The Moon Lord.*

 *Recently, part of the land itself had started to change. The Southern Forests, once a region of vibrant green trees, a popular place for wildlife and home to the capital of Eversong, Mordenheim, has now become a twisted and gnarled forest of blackened trees and bitter cold. Strangely, Mordenheim has vanished, and the world tree along with it. What has replaced it, however, no one can say. Every brave soul who volunteered to scout this new “Deadwoods” region has never returned, until now.*

Rayvon Shadowsong was a drunk, there were no other ways around it. When he was sad, he drank. When he was happy, he drank. And when he felt anything else, he drank. But did this make him a bad person? Not necessarily, he had a reason to drink. Rayvon was a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. His wife had passed away seven years ago, and his daughter, Linthea, seemed not too far behind. Still though, he had to be strong, for her.

Right behind him, was a relatively tall Changeling, a man with white eyes and hair, and grey, featureless skin. This was Sçad, the leader of The Unseen, a guild of spies that until now were directly opposed to Rayvon and his “Shadowhunters” guild. However, recent events had forced the two gangs to put aside their differences and work together.

Accompanying them were a small band of heroes, much like any other. First up were Zia and Kana, two siblings with no relation to each other, but who shared a familial bond deeper than blood. Kana had come to the Deadwoods seeking Lucien, her boyfriend who had mysteriously disappeared one day. Zia came to support her sister, but had her own destiny that awaited her. Next were Xion and Ulixes, two Changelings that you could be forgiven for thinking were sisters, but had never met before. Ulixes was the daughter of Sçad, and accompanied him, or rather he accompanied her, as they searched for her mother in this land, and had fallen in with Rayvon in order to do so. Xion, the other changeling, while not related to Ulixes, had been trained by her mother, and had almost become like family to them. Lastly, there was Saber, the loner type. Saber didn’t have a personal or familial stake, but that wasn’t going to stop him from completing the mission. Their mission.

The group had been walking for a few hours, mostly in silence or in small conversation with each other, until they reached the edge of known territory. As they stood at the entrance to the Deadwoods, they looked out at the blackened, gnarled trees. It almost seemed unreal to them, no wind blew through the leaves, no animals could be heard, and the sun couldn’t be . Beyond the treeline, nothing could be heard, but a deadly silence. It was almost deafening.

What seemed like a few hour walk seemed like days. The deadwoods seemed to change around them. The trees seemed to shift, and lead them in circles, off the beaten path. Or were they being guided, shown a path they might have missed otherwise? What the group did know, is that they were being watched. Red, glowing eyes seemed to watch from behind every tree.

Finally, they reached a break in the treeline, and entered a large clearing. A large town stood around them, but not like the vibrant, upbeat villages and quiet, quaint towns they had previously visited. This was a depressing, downtrodden, and long abandoned mess. A beaten and weathered sign lay nearby, still barely standing. Worn and faded letters spelled out “Vandelheim”, and below that, written in blood spelled out “help us”.

“That’s… creepy.” Kana said, the rest of her group looking around and moving ahead.

“Indeed. Split up, we there must be something here. And stay on your guard. We are not alone.” Sçad said, drawing his sword.

Poking around the town, the group pieced together that the town had once been much more active. A collapsed bakery, once a welcome place for all to get fresh bread, now lay bare and dusty. A ruined church, once a place of worship and comfort, now lay broken, with stained blood on the carpet, and a massive hole in the wall. Lastly, a graveyard, with a large number of hastily assembled graves, many ending in the date “514”. Strangely, one house remained standing, with fresh flowers growing in front. Whether or not this was just lucky soil, even in this climate, or a memorial, left recently by an unknown visitor, was anyone’s guess.

Reconvening in the center of town, the heroes shared what they had learned. Only two locations remained: a large mansion up the hill from the town, and a path through the forest on the eastern side of town. Deciding to finish searching close to the town, the heroes decided to investigate the estate.

Walking up the hill, a large, rusted iron gate blocked their path. Most of it had degraded, but the letters Z A R V and C were still visible. Forcing open the gate, the heroes entered the courtyard. Two small graves could be seen off to the side, covered in a thin layer of snow. A dueling courtyard could be seen off to the side, with the ringing of clashing blades still slightly audible.

Opening the doors to the mansion, a thin layer of dust covered everything. A large, opulent foyer greeted the heroes as they crept inside. Splitting up, a few rooms of note could be found. The dining hall, with the table cleared off, and a large portrait of a noble looking family with one son, with his mother’s white hair, and reddish eyes. Next was a painting studio, many of the paintings still hanging, carefully preserved. Finally, was a bedroom, and a journal with the last entry dated “514”. A small heart was scribbled on the last page, with the letters C and R inside. Leaving the mansion, the heroes decided to split up. Ulixes, Kana, and Zia went east through the small pathway, while the rest of the group stayed behind to comb the town again.

### Chapter Two: The Skull of the Deathlord

Following the trail for a few minutes, the three of them eventually ended up in a small clearing. A large cavern lay in front of them, dominated by a large waterfall leading into a lake in the center. Strangely, the air here was comforting and warm, the first place anyone felt any real safety since entering the Deadwoods. An ornate grave covered in flowers lay just in front of the lake, with no name but still marked: 514

“514… that was three hundred years ago! What the hell happened here? What is this place?” Zia asked, as Kana and Zia looked around.

“This place… was my home once. Our home.” A voice behind her said.

Spinning around, Zia met face to face with a tall vampire, with ghostly grey skin, jagged black scars on his face, long white hair and burning blood red eyes. Zia drew her rapier in defense, as Kana and Ulixes readied for a fight

“Who are you?” the vampire said, raising his sword, forming it from a black plasma-like substance.

“You first.” Zia said

The two stood for a moment, eyeing each other down, before the vampire relented.

“I am Lord Cecil Von Zarovich, the guardian of this place.” Cecil said, his sword still raised.

“I’m Zia, this is Kana and Ulixes, my sister and our friend.” Zia said, lowering her weapon, as Cecil began to lower his.

“What happened here? Why are so many of the graves marked with the same year?” she asked. Without a word, Cecil walked over to the ornate grave, and stared down at it for a moment.

“We were a family once. We were going to be married, with my family’s blessing. We were so close. And then, they attacked. Like a plague washing over the town, they slaughtered everyone they saw, and she was murdered.” Cecil said, not taking his eyes off the gravestone.

“Who attacked?”

“The Deathlord…. Morlund.”

“Deathlord? Like the Skull of the Deathlord? The one that’s corrupting Eversong?” Zia asked. She flinched as Cecil’s gaze turned to her, shooting her a look of rage, like he was ready to kill at a moment’s notice. After a moment, he returned to normal.

““The Skull of the Deathlord… Why does it not surprise me… even from death that bastard mocks me. I have a pretty good idea of where that skull is.”

“What happened to the Deathlord?”

“I gutted him myself. I tore his black heart from his chest and crushed it with my bare hands.”

Turning, Cecil began the walk back to Vandelheim, the three of them following after.

“Are there more of you?” Cecil asked

“Yeah, four more, and we’re hoping to find two of our friends who came here.” Zia replied

“Good, if Morlund has returned, it would be in our best interests to put him down quickly, before that monster hurts anyone else.”

Returning to Vandelheim, the rest of the group were a bit wary of Cecil, but decided to go along with the plan. However, as they began to leave the town, Cecil stopped in his tracks.

“Wait. We’re not alone.” Cecil growled, as he looked around. The party stopped, as the red glowing eyes returned. After a few moments of silence, Cecil formed his sword in his hand, and with one swift motion, slashed straight through a vampire rushing after him. As the rest of the heroes drew their weapons and readied for a fight, Cecil felt the anger rising in him again, as two shadow-like figures burst from his back, forming into his familiars.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Skals? They send Skals after us? Who do we look like, a bunch of fucking jobbers?” Sanguinar said angrily, as Noire bared his fangs, ready for the hunt.

“What the hell is a Skal?” Kana asked

“The lowest form of vampire, not even fit for mercy.” Cecil said coldly, as more vampires emerged from the shadows.These vampires, however, were not like Cecil and Morlund. These had raggedy, disheveled clothes, all red eyes, and wild animal-like appearances. Unable to form words, they roared, and charged forth on all fours like an animal. The rest of the party moved to engage, as Cecil stared down the three Skals that were charging at him. Slicing through one, cutting it in half, he dodged out of reach of a second one, slashing into its chest and blasting it away with a bolt of red energy. As the third, unable to reason that its companions lay dead renewed the attack, Cecil slashed into it, severing its arm. Grabbing it by the head, Cecil dug his fangs into the Skal’s neck, tearing out its throat. Quickly tasting the blood left around his mouth, Cecil leapt back into action. In less than a minute, the heroes had finished off the remaining ambush. Taking a moment to rest, the heroes proceeded.

Moving back into the Deadwoods, the party headed straight for Bloodmoon Keep. During the trip, Ulixes spoke up.

“Why does this place feel so ancient? The Deadwoods only started emerging recently. And I’ve studied The History of Eversong, there’s no town called Vandelheim or history of a siege. What’s happening?

“You’re not in Eversong anymore. This place, all of this, shouldn’t exist in your world. This is Belwyn, once known as The Dark Kingdom.”

“Not in Eversong? But Eversong has always been one country, and we walked here! How is that possible?”

“Belwyn does not reside in your world like a traditional country. It is part of what is called The Abyss, or the Dark Lands. They are the domain of an ancient and terrible god. The Moon Lord.”

“Is there any way to reverse it?”

“This…. Convergence, if you wish to call it that, is likely brought on by the Skull of Morlund. Destroying it may be enough to return your land to normal.”

“Does… does the sun not exist here?” Ulixes said, looking up at the sky. It was still technically daytime, but the sky was a dead, grey color, with swirling clouds looming overhead.

“No. Belwyn has not felt the sun’s embrace in centuries. The Moon Lord’s corruption is strong here, likely stronger than any other part of the Abyss.”

No sun, huh? Bet you and the rest of these fuckers like that?” Saber asked, twirling a crossbow bolt in his hand.

“My kin, if you wish to call them that, they gladly embrace the Moon Lord’s curse. As for me, I’ve felt the sun once before. It was… comforting. Painful, yet... comforting.”

“You can withstand sunlight?” Ulixes asked

“Pureblooded Vampyrs are a rare breed. I’m likely the first one born in centuries. Early Vampyrs never had to fear the sun, that was a weakness that first appeared in their ilk, Ekons, or the standard breed of vampire you have likely heard of.”

“I see.” Ulixes said

Reaching another break in the trees, the heroes finally entered a clearing, with a large stone keep sitting in front of them. The keep lay in ruins, as if it should have collapsed long ago, but something prevented it from falling down, propping it up as a monument to all the darkness that resided in Belwyn. Tattered and faded black banners hang from the walls, depicting a blood red handprint. Not wasting any time, the heroes entered.

Walking through the foyer, flashbacks of his first attack on this place clawed at Cecil’s mind, as he remembered each and every monster he had to put down to get to Morlund. Standing the central room, Cecil stopped, and looked upwards, readying himself to destroy the last remaining piece of Morlund left in Belwyn. It was all he had left, after the loss of his family in Ravenloft. In truth, Cecil didn’t know what kept him going. Perhaps just to spite The Moon Lord? Perhaps just protecting Vandelheim, and Rosa’s grave, just to feel something again.

Just then, more Skals appeared, crawling out of the dark shadows and from behind the walls. As the heroes readied themselves again, a sudden crash came from the ceiling, and a man wearing a red coat and hat, with a mask covering his face came crashing in, firing crossbows at the Skals, sniping them in the head. Landing on the broken glass, the man twirled his crossbows away, and faced Saber.

“Looky who we got here.” The man said.

“Rowan!” Saber said, as the two embraced. As the party reconnected with their friend, Cecil stepped away looking up the stairs.

“Split up, find your other friend, I shall go and find the Skull.” Cecil said, as he proceeded up the stairs. Walking through the corridor, he heard sounds of battle down below, but knew the heroes could handle it.

Forcing open the door to the throne room, it seemed mostly unchanged, with the exception of a large pedestal in the center. Hovering shortly above it was a large skull, its eye sockets still glowing red, and with wolf-like fangs protruding from the maw. Staring down the skull, anger began to build inside Cecil, as he recounted his battle with Morlund. Looking down, he wasn’t sure if he had bloodied his hands with Skal blood, or if he was just hallucinating Morlund’s blood, fresh on his hands. Suddenly, Cecil heard what sounded like a stone kicking. Turning around, he saw a pack of Skals, readying to attack.

“You kill because you don’t know any better. That’s all your soul screams at you to do. I kill for vengeance. Which one of us is the real monster?” Cecil asked, his blade forming in his hand.

“Them, dickwad! Worry about your melodrama later!” Sanguinar yelled, appearing next to Cecil. As the two rushed forth, the Skals readied themselves for their next kill.

As the heroes proceeded up the stairs, now with Lucien, Kana’s boyfriend in tow, they rushed into the throne room, arriving just as Cecil finished off the last of the Skals.

“Huh, looks like we didn’t miss much.” Rowan said,

“So this is it then, the Skull of the Deathlord.” Rayvon said, approaching the skull.

“The last mortal tether of the most despicable monster to ever emerge from the Abyss.” Cecil said. Taking the skull into hand, Rayvon looked into its eyes.

“Hello you. Elusive little bugger, aren’t ya? If I didn’t need the money so badly, you’d make a fine decoration.” he said, staring down at the skull.

“Money? Rayvon, please. We already talked about this!” Zia yelled

“Damn it, Zia! I said I’d consider destroying the skull, I never agreed to shit!” Rayvon yelled back

“Ray-”

“Listen to me! My daughter is dying! This was supposed to set me up for life and finally cover doctor fees! You never understood!”

“You hold a grim destiny in your hands, Shadowsong. You’d be wise to destroy the skull.” Cecil said, turning to face Rayvon, his sword forming in his hand.

“Yeah, or else what?” Rayvon asked, drawing his sword.

“Or else there won’t be a world left for your daughter… Who knows how many other daughters you’d be destroying the lives of if you do this, Rayvon… Please.” Zia begged.

Rayvon froze. Looking down at the skull, it seemed to stare right back at him. As much as he wanted to just take down everyone in the room and complete his mission, he knew Zia was right.

“Please… take the skull. I don’t want to be the one to do this.” Rayvon said, offering the skull to Zia.

“Of course.” She said. Cecil had begun to form his sword in his hand, but stood down. However, as Zia tried to take the skull, it wouldn’t budge from Rayvon’s hand.

“Uh… Rayvon?”

“Aren’t you gonna take it?” Rayvon asked

“I can’t.” She said.

As she tried to pull, Rayvon suddenly collapsed. Trying to pry the skull from his hand, the skull just stared at him, as he heard a maniacal laughter echo through his head. As he started to scream, his hand began to turn a pale greyish color. Cecil formed his sword, ready to sever Rayvon’s arm, Rayvon suddenly exploded in a flash of red light, knocking everyone back.

As the light cleared away, the heroes looked up to see Cecil angrily staring at a tall, burly, grey skinned Vampire, clad in red armor.

“W-what is this?” Ulixes asked

“Morlund…” Cecil said. He felt like he couldn’t move, his rage was almost palpable.

Morlund took a moment to catch his breath and take in his surroundings, before locking eyes with Cecil.

“Hoooo boy! Good ta be back! No wait, better!” He said, a maniacal grin forming on his face. “Cecil! How’ve you been, old sponge?” Morlund laughed.

Twitching, Cecil rushed forth, ready to gut Morlund right where he stood. But Morlund just swung down into Cecil, holding him back. Morlund felt stronger than he ever had. Strangely, a voice echoed in his head. He couldn’t understand it, but he dismissed it. He had a whole new life ahead of him. Swinging back into Cecil and knocking him away, the rest of the heroes readied for battle. Morlund lunged into the middle of the throne room, and started to swing into the crowd. Swatting people away like flies, Morlund swung down into Ulixes, then blasting her away with a blast of blackened energy. As she started to get up, he brought his sword down through her chest. As he started to re engage the heroes, the voice rang through his head again.

**“Make Belwyn whole… my champion.”**

Stopping in his tracks, Morlund froze, before looking up through the window. The sky was fading into complete darkness, and a nasty smile came over his face.

“Well, I’d love to stay and catch up, but I got some errands to run. Later!”

Quickly shapeshifting into a large gargoyle-like creature, Morlund flew out through the window, towards Eversong.

“Help your friend, I’m going to find that bastard!” Cecil said, as he morphed into his bat form and flew away. But as he kept flying, he noticed that in the distance, more and more of Eversong started to die, as the trees turned to an inky black color, and the sky above began to fade away. Suddenly, the ground began to shake, as at the northernmost part of the land, a massive tower shot up from the ground, roaring and shaking the foundations of the planet itself. Morlund had done it. Eversong was no more, there was only Belwyn, The Dark Kingdom Reborn.

As Ulixes lay dying, the rest of the party gathered around, trying everything they could to heal her. Finally, Lucien pulled his sword from his sheath, as it ignited in a blue, ghostly flame, and pressed it to her wound, cauterizing it. As they all took a breath, the ground suddenly began to shake. As they rushed to the observation room, they saw the tower rise from the earth.

“What’s… happening?” Ulixes asked, still catching her breath

“We failed…” Sçad replied, as the rest of the heroes looked on.

### Chapter Three: The Dark Citadel

The door to the citadel crashed open, leading to an opulent but ruined grand hall. Morlund took a few steps forward, looking around. Suddenly, the voice echoed through his head again.

**“There is no need to fear me... my child.”**

“Fear? And me? Sorry, you must have the wrong guy.” Morlund said, drawing his sword.

**“Your father knew to accept my gift…”**

“Your gift? My father died to a worthless human! How much could you possibly offer me?”

**“Your father grew weak. He chose to conquer in his name, rather than in mine. He chose the life of a warlord rather than a king. He chose to lead Bloodmoon, and their feasts, rather than conquer Belwyn. He forgot who I was. You though… You are stronger than him. You shall be my greatest warrior yet.”**

“Don’t exactly hate the sound of that. What’s the catch?”

**“Simple... Kill in my name, and conquer this land, for your god.”**

“And in return? I felt something during the fight with the Zarovich kid, was that you?”

**“Only a fraction of my power. Pledge yourself to me, and I’ll show you true darkness.”**

“True darkness…” Morlund said. After a moment, he started to cackle.

“Alright then, let’s do this thing, huh?”

**“First, you must rebuild your clan. While it is of your father’s creation, you can hone them into our grand army.”**

“So what’s the first step?”

**“There are two ancient vampires in these crypts. They were conquerors in this land, long ago… Recruit them, once again shall they bring dark order in our name.”**

“Hah, I could use another Rakhan and DeMarkov. My last set kinda broke.”

**“You should dispose of any obstacles quickly. The undead here are mindless, and do not bow to me. Make them.”**

 As The Moon Lord spoke, a mass of undead appeared. Skeletons with old rusted weapons hissed at Morlund, despite the clear size difference. Ghosts with various bodily injuries stared angrily, unaware of their undeath. Massive golems of bone roared like beasts, ready to crush the Deathlord. Morlund only smiled. He had survived death, and he could do it again. As a mass of the undead rushed towards him, he easily cleaved through the lot of them. Morlund could feel the power flowing through him. The Moon Lord wasn’t lying, Morlund wasn’t just getting stronger. He was evolving. Even when the massive bone constructs, which towered over him, were no match for him. One went to crush him under its fist, but Morlund just blocked it with his sword, and retaliated with a burst of black and red energy from his hand, turning the massive creature to dust. During the fight, Morlund’s eyes turned a crimson red, as he began to laugh maniacally. Hordes upon hordes of undead fell before him. However, the more undead he sent back to the grave, the more rose.

Suddenly, one of the bone golems eyes shot out with a green light, and it stopped attacking. Looking around, it charged through a mass of skeletons, next to Morlund.

“You...are not like the rest. Who are you?” A hollow sounding voice emitted from the skeleton said.

“Name’s Morlund. I’m the new champion of The Moon Lord, and the best damn warrior this land’s ever seen!” Morlund said, blasting another group of skeletons to dust. He knocked one of the skeletons to the floor, and began to slam its skull under his boot repeatedly, turning it into a fine dust.

“And you seek to return this land to the glorious darkness?”

“Meh, I don’t care too much about that. But if it makes the big cheese happy, I’ll kill whoever he wants me to, and bring darkness wherever he wants me to.”

“Then make haste to the crypts. I will buy you what time I can.” The voice said, as green energy surrounded the golem’s skeletal body. It lept into the crowd of undead, and drew their attention. Morlund proceeded further into the citadel, making his way to the crypts.

As he walked down the stairs, it smelled of death and decay the further down he went, but this didn’t matter. This was only a stepping stone on his path to power. Finding two larges tone coffins, wrapped in heavy chains and with long rusted holy symbols, Morlund chuckled a bit as he easily broke through the chains. Kicking the lid off the first coffin, he found a rather tall skeleton with long fangs, and equally long claws. A stake was stabbed into where it’s heart would have been, just barely kept in place by the rib cage. Pulling out the stake and throwing it aside, Morlund slashed at his palm, and bled into the skeleton’s mouth. As the coffin started to rumble, the skeleton burst forth, sprouting wings, as its muscle and skin began to regenerate. The vampire, a male with greyish skin, pointed ears, and no hair, looked around confusedly. It floated towards an opening in the crypt, soaking in the moonlight. Blackened armor began to form around his body, clothing him. As he turned back and saw Morlund, floated back down, landing next to him and retracting his wings.

“My… apologies milord. It has been many years since I have walked this earth.”

“Yeah? And you are?”

“In life, I was known as Gharon the Decayer. I suppose Gharon the Decayed would be a more apt name for the past few centuries, though.”

“And this other coffin?”

“Ah yes… this one was… a bother. Still though, it is your choice to wake him or not.”

Morlund stared down at the coffin, before slashing open the chains keeping the lid bound. A huge skeleton lay inside, easily taller than Morlund. The skeleton itself was bound in chains, with multiple stakes planted into its body. Pulling the stake from its ribs and bleeding into its mouth, the massive skeleton erupted from the coffin like an uncaged animal. Muscle and flesh began to form, as the beast broke free of its chains effortlessly. The figure eventually shaped into a large man, covered in hair, and no magic to cover himself. He noticed Morlund and Gharon staring at him, and rushed towards Morlund, grabbing him by the throat. He exhaled through his nose, and growled at Morlund.

“Vulkod… you will bow before your pack leader, or you will be devoured.” The vampire said.

“Cornell! You will respect your new lord!” Gharon yelled, but Morlund waved him away.

“I got this.” Morlund said, as he grabbed the Cornell’s hand, crushing it. Grabbing the Vulkod by the throat, Morlund dragged him over to the coffin, and slammed him against the side of it.

“Holler Uncle!” Morlund laughed.

“You… such strength…” The Vulkod said, panting. After a moment, he let out a hearty laugh.

“I am proud, to hunt with you, pack leader!” Cornell said, kneeling.

“Rise, brother! Stand tall and proud!” Morlund said. Cornell, still undressed, rose to his feet as Gharon looked away in disgust, standing a few feet taller than Morlund. He noticed bits of armor inside the coffin and his old hammer off to the side, and got dressed. Morlund walked to the edge of the cavern, and looked out to the full moon above.

“Gharon. Tell me a bit about the history of this place.”

“Certainly. Centuries ago, Vampirekind dominated this land. Two clans vied for supremacy, Clan Gorefang, led by Cornell; and Clan Enkyran, my people. However, the humans rose up, and overthrew us. Imprisoning us here, the humans sealed this tower away, and allowed day and night to co exist once again.”

“So this tower anchors this land in The Abyss?” Morlund asked.

“Precisely, and with the World Tree sealed away, the forces of light have no chance to restore the balance.”

“I’m sensing a catch there.”

“Theoretically. The tree still exists, it is merely trapped in time. Only something without a corporeal body could use the Forest Soul I presume.”

“Heh, like that’s gonna happen. Ghosts aren’t exactly known for retaining free will.” Morlund laughed.

“Precisely. I’m glad that for a Vulkod you seem to have a brain.” Gharon said, slightly bowing to Morlund.

“Watch your tongue, Nosferos. We may be allied, but I will not hesitate to tear you apart where you stand.” Cornell said, growling, and walking towards Gharon.

“As if you could, brute. I could destroy your tiny, fragile mind with but a whisper.” Gharon said, looking up at Cornell defiantly.

“Enough, both of you!” Morlund barked. “Gharon, you still possess some power over the vampires in this land, yeah? You wanna make an announcement?”

“Certainly milord. This will take but a moment.” Gharon started to float in the air, green energy swirling around him, before his eyes shot open.

“Minions! Servants! Soldiers of the cold dark! Bow down to your new lord, bow down, to the Deathlord, Morlund!”

“Bow down, to the Deathking!” Cornell roared.

“Cast off your chains, for the tyranny of the sun is no more! Cast aside your squabbles, for Gorefang and Enkyran are no more! There is only:”

“Clan Bloodmoon, Reborn!!” Morlund cried out, as the message carried across the land, entering the mind of every vampire and undead under the earth, hiding away. The dead rose, and the dark creatures of the land began to stir. The Army of Darkness was here, and was ready for a hunt.

### Chapter Four: All I Have Left

Cecil kept running through the now blackened forests of Eversong. Ignoring Gharon’s psychic call, he just kept running, towards the massive tower. Even with his power, he was starting to get tired, and grow weak. His bat form could only carry him so far, and he had been forced to make the rest of his way on foot.

“Cecil! Stop for a goddamn second!” Sanguinar yelled, catching up to him.

“That bastard came back! I’m going to gut him again!!” Cecil yelled, panting.

“Just listen to me for a goddamn second! What are we even doing anymore? You’ve already killed him before, do you really care about revenge that much? Let it go, man! It’s been three hundred years!”

“All I’ve been seeing for three hundred years is his fucking face, I’m going to kill him as many times as I need to!”

“Is this all you are? Is this really the only thing you want to do with your life?”

“Yes!!”

“Wait… what?”

“This is all I have left, god damn it! Everyone I love is dead! Rosa, mother, father, my uncle I never knew about, everyone! What else do I have? I can either stand by and allow him to live, and fail everyone in my life he and The Moon Lord have hurt, or I can hunt him down, tear out his entrails, and hang him from the top of his fucking dark tower!!” Cecil cried out, angrily, his eyes burning in a crimson glow.

“Wow… we need to get you a hobby…”

“I do have a hobby, it's putting down this bastard everytime he comes back into my life, apparently!”

“You’re right. There’s uh… nothing else to do in Belwyn, anyway. No paper to paint on, everyone else is dead or scattered or ravenous vampires… I see your point, Ceec. Just try not to die.”

“And if I do? Either I put him down and go back to guarding Rosa’s grave, or I die and everything is finally over.”

“Uhhh, dipshit? You know that if you die, I’m gonna fade away into nothingness, right?”

“Hmm. Guess I’ll try not to die, for your sake. And Noire’s.”

Sanguinar froze for a second.

“I forgot about Noire...” Sanguinar said, laughing

“You… forgot?”

“Yeah, like I forgot he existed!” Sanguinar said, now laughing on the ground, as Noire materialized, growling at Sanguinar. Cecil stopped to catch his breath, and sat down.

After a few minutes, the three continued onward. Eventually, Cecil stopped, and stared into the newly darkened forest.

“Hold up. There’s something out there.” Cecil said, his sword forming in his hand.

As he stared forward, feeling his magic ready itself, he sat motionless, tensing himself and readying himself for a fight.

Suddenly, from his side a massive shape shot out from the forest, barreling into Cecil like a bull. As he flew backwards, he slammed up against a tree. As he looked up, he saw a green bolt of energy flying at him. Dodging out of the way at the last second, he heard an explosion behind him as the tree burned with green flame. In front of him were two vampires. One, a massive Vulkod, with grey hair and tusk like teeth, wielding a massive hammer. The other, floating in the air on blackened wings, was a grey skinned Nosferos, with gaunt features and piercing red eyes.

“So this is the one the Deathking told us about. A pureblood…” Gharon said.

“Good, never tasted pure blood before. This’ll be fun.” Cornell growled, as he readied his hammer.

“Remember your orders, wolf. You are needed in Blueleaf, with the others.”

“And what about you? The master gave you orders too!”

“And I shall follow them, but first, I wish to test this one.” Gharon said, looking down at Cecil

“Aw screw that! You just want him for yourself so you can earn the master’s favor! Give it up, Decayer, the master will always favor his own breed!”

“Morlund is no fool, you will remain his lapdog and nothing more.”

“Who are you calling lapdog, coward?”

“Umm, who are these guys here to kill again?” Sanguinar whispered in Cecil’s ear.

“I think they’ve forgotten.” Cecil said back

“Hey dumbasses! Either get a room or kill each other already!” Sanguinar yelled

Morlund turned and shot a look at Cecil and Sanguinar.

“Aw screw this!” Cornell roared as he charged towards Cecil. He jumped in the air, bringing his hammer down, and cracked the earth beneath him as Cecil dashed out of the way. A blast of green energy struck Cornell, as he turned around and saw Gharon looking at him with rage.

“You will single-handedly jeopardize every plan the master has with your recklessness!”

“And you’re nothing but a useless greyback with cheap parlor tricks!” Cornell roared, swinging his hammer. Gharon disappeared in a cloud of green mist and bats, and reappeared a few feet away, firing another blast at Cornell. Noticing at the last moment, Gharon dashed out of the way of Cecil’s sword. Cornell swung his hammer again, intending to hit both of them, but he was suddenly knocked forward by Noire, lunging into him and digging into his throat. Sanguinar soared into the air, raining magic down onto Gharon. Gharon shot another bolt of magic at Cecil, who dodged out of the way, letting it hit Cornell in the side. Cornell turned and shot a look at Gharon and rushed at him. As Gharon tried to dash away, Sanguinar shot another bolt of magic at him, distracting him and causing him to be slammed in the chest by Cornell’s hammer. As the two traded blows, Cecil and Sanguinar took a few paces away from the brawl

“Eventually they’ll come to their senses and join against me. Lure the big one away, the Shadowhunters in Blueleaf can handle him, I’ll handle the Decayer.” Cecil said

“You sure? He seems to be the one you’re having more trouble with.” Sanguinar said, hovering next to Cecil.

“On his own I can handle him. I beat DeMarkov, Gharon’s just another spellcaster. Besides, I don’t know where he was ordered to attack, if he leaves I can follow him easier.”

“Fair enough, catch ya on the flipside!” Sanguinar yelled. As he soared into the air, he started raining down magic onto Cornell, as Noire focused on him.

“Hey fuckface! Are you that inferior that you’d rather just fight Morlund’s favorite rather than do your job?” Sanguinar yelled. Cornell quickly looked up at Sanguinar and growled

“I will tear your wings from your body and devour you whole, you worthless creature!” He roared

“Yeah if you ever catch me! You look slower than my grandma, and she doesn’t even exist!” Sanguinar laughed as he took off, Noire following after him. Cornell charged after the two familiars into the forest.

“What the master needs him for, I fail to see…” Gharon said, sighing

“If you’re surprised by Morlund keeping him around, you don’t know him nearly as well as I do.” Cecil said, eyeing down the vampire.

“You may be right… Still though, the master has need of me, and would see you dead.” Gharon said, readying his magic again. As Cecil and Gharon leered at each other, Cecil rushed forth, power flowing through him as he swung first.

As Noire sprinted through the forest, Sanguinar flying alongside him, they both heard the grunting of Cornell chasing them down. Noire barked at Sanguinar.

“Split up? Why?”

“Bark!”

“That many vampires? Guess that explains why Cornell was supposed to head to that village. I’ll lure him towards that, you run to the village, get them on high alert, and hide until I find you. We can’t take that thing down, but the heroes can. Capiche?”

“Bark!”

“Good!”

Noire rushed ahead, while Sanguinar slowed a bit, and started to fire more magic at Cornell to anger him. Drawing his attention, he flew in a different direction than where Noire went. As he kept flying, he began to notice a large number of vampires hiding in the trees.

“Jeez, Fido was right, that’s a lot of vampires… Here goes nothing!” Sanguinar said. He turned to face Cornell, who lunged towards Sanguinar. At the last moment, Sanguinar flew out of the way, hiding in the trees. As Cornell looked around, breaking through trees and looking up for him, he eventually gave up. As several vampires congregated around him, Cornell and the others rushed off.

“Heh, suckers…” Sanguinar said, flying into the air again to see where Blueleaf was, and heading there.

As the heroes arrived in Blueleaf, they all collectively breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time since the dark citadel rose, they weren’t being dogged by Vampires. The entire country was still bathed in eternal darkness, but they were so tired they didn’t even care. For now, they could just relax. However, something seemed amiss to them still, as every once in a while they noticed a large black dog watching them from the forest.

As Noire hid in the bushes nearby, he heard Sanguinar land next to him.

“Huh, smart thinking for a dog. That big bastard bought it!”

“Bark!” Noire said angrily

“That’s raci- No it isn’t! Does that still count if you’re a dog?”

“Bark!” Noire stated

“Wolf! Whatever! I don’t…. You know what, I’m sorry.”

“Bark.” Noire said

“Anyway, what’s the scoop? The Shadowhunters or whatever they’re called arrive yet?”

“Bark!”

“Good. And now, we wait, and let them take care of the rest.”

As the heroes sat in Kana and Zia’s childhood home, recuperating and planning their next move, they suddenly heard a lounge roaring outside. As they rushed outside, they saw Cornell, surrounded by a pack of vampires.

“Shadowhunters! Your presence is an affront to my clan! Lord Morlund's rage is upon you, and I am it's vessel!!”

“Yeah, and who are you exactly?” Kana asked

“I am Cornell, chieftain of Clan Silvermoon, and I will bring the Vulkod the glory again!”

“So Morlund is too much of a coward to come himself, he sends an overconfident and oversized mutt to do his business for him?” Lucien said

“Okay now THAT’S racist!” Sanguinar whispered to Noire.

“Bark…:” Noire said, defeated.

“You insignificant pest! I will tear you limb from limb, and gnaw on your bones!”

“Bring it.” Lucien said, drawing his sword from its sheath.

As Cornell and the other vampires charged towards the group, Lucien dashed forward, instantly killing two of the vampires, the rest falling shortly after. Cornell charged in with his hammer, swinging into Lucien with all of his might. Surprisingly, Lucien seemed to block his hammer. Cornell looked shocked for a second, but this only increased his anger. Seeing as he was now outnumbered six to one, he exploded in fury, letting his bestial nature take over. Fur grew all over his body, with his teeth sharpening into fangs, and his fingers turning to massive claws. Red glowing runes lined his body, as he threw aside his warhammer. He roared at the six heroes before him, as he charged into the fray. Knocking Lucien aside, Zia tried to stab him with her rapier, but couldn’t even pierce his hide. Kana ran in with her sword, but only managed to get in a slash before being knocked out of the way. The other party members threw spells and swung their weapons, but only made limited progress. Cornell was taking everything they threw at him and it barely phased him.

However, from Kana and Zia’s house, a small Kobold came running in, explosives in hand and cheering as he ran to blow up Cornell. Sighing, Cornell slammed him into a tree, as a loud crack could be heard. Just then, however, Cornell felt a pain rising up inside him, as a large spark of purple energy started to surround him. As he looked over at the house, he saw a young elf, with pale blue skin and blue hair, standing on the porch of the house, her hands glowing with purple energy. As he charged towards her, she made a tearing apart motion with her hands, and Cornell was turned inside out, torn apart limb from limb, as he disintegrated, screaming in pain all the way.

“Uhhhh… what just happened?” Sanguinar asked, hiding in the bush

“Woof.”

“I agree.”

As the rest of the heroes sat, recovering after their battle, Sanguinar and Noire emerged.

“Damn, looks like you guys cleaned up shop!” Sanguinar said

“Ah great, more of Morlund’s lackeys?” Lucien asked

“Nah, we’re with Cecil. I’m Sanguinar, and this is Noire. Anyway, there’s more vampires on route to Port Little Oak, and Cecil's battling Morlund's other lackey in the woods. We need to get there fast if you guys want to save your friends. Any questions?”

“Can I pet the dog?” Kana asked

“Sure…” Sanguinar said, sighing

As some of the heroes moved to pet Noire, he happily rolled onto his belly and let the Shadowhunters pet him. Sanguinar tried to flirt a bit with the women of the party, but didn’t have much luck. After a bit, they began to travel towards Port Little Oak, readying themselves for another battle.

### Chapter Five: The Decayer

As Cecil charged in, green energy began to surround Gharon again. Blackened wings burst from Gharon’s back as he ascended into the air, raining down magic on Cecil. Cecil’s right forearm was surrounded with a red energy, forming into a gauntlet, as a long red whip emerged from it, wrapping around Gharon’s leg. Pulling with all his might, Gharon was forced to the ground, slamming into it. Dispersing the energy, Cecil went in for the kill, but Gharon warped out of the way at the last moment. Quickly scrambling to his feet, Gharon resumed his attack, but his magic was blocked by Cecil’s sword, who countered with his own magic. As the two vampires dodged around each other firing magic and swinging at each other, Gharon spoke up.

“Morlund speaks highly of you. I can see why.”

“Surprising. I have nothing good to say about that bastard!”

“Even you must admit, he is a skilled warrior.”

Cecil charged in to slash at Gharon, who blocked it with his staff. As the two locked weapons, Cecil replied.

“A skilled warrior doesn’t butcher innocent people. That’s not a fight, that’s murder.”

“True, he is bloodthirsty. He likes the blood, the violence. But you can’t deny his prowess, he will conquer this land, and make us whole.”

“You’re stretching to say anything good about him. You don’t truly respect him, you’re using him, aren’t you?”

“Half true. Morlund could easily defeat me if he wanted to. I can respect that. But I am using him. Clan Enkyran died centuries ago. Morlund can bring it back. I do what I must for my people, even if that means bowing to the Vulkod. Would you not do anything to bring back your people?”

“I…” Cecil started to waver, but quickly regained his composure.

“Morlund is going to massacre hundreds of innocents. My family would be disgusted with me if I sided with him, or his master. To sacrifice my honor is to spit in the face of everyone I’ve lost.”

“Your sense of honor is outdated, especially for vampires. You’re a pureblood, you don’t know what it's like, to wake up, craving blood, having to kill to stay alive. You don’t know what it's like to fear the sun. You try to judge me by your morals, not knowing what it's like to be forced to do anything. You were born into vampire royalty, I killed my way to the top. I will not be judged by you.”

“And you don’t know me. You don’t know what it's like to have everything ripped from you. All I know is how to kill. But there’s always a choice. I chose to fight and kill in the name of justice. My own justice.. You chose this, and you justify your murder with survival, but you died when you butchered your first innocent. You’re nothing but a monster, writhing in the filth of your own corruption. My judgement is my sword through your neck.”

“This conversation is over. I will not waste my time arguing ethics with the likes of you. I have my orders, and I have ignored them long enough.“

Wings burst from Gharons back again, as he took off soaring towards Port Little Oak. Cecil ran after him, shifting into a large bat and chasing him down.

Meanwhile in Little Oak, a massive battle had been raging throughout the town for what felt like hours. More and more reinforcements arrived on both sides, with hordes of vampires assisting Clan Bloodmoon, and Black Rose reinforcements arriving to help the heroes, including Fennys and the other heroes from Ravenloft. As the Shadowhunters fended off wave after wave of vampires in town, Sanguinar started to worry about Cecil.

“Damn it, he was supposed to be here by now!” Sanguinar yelled

“He’ll be fine. From what I saw of him in Ravenloft, there’s a good reason they call him ‘The Dragon’” Fennys said, now donning a large suit of golden armor, raining lightning and holy energy on the vampires.

“Easy for you to say, you never had to deal with his stubbornness, its gonna get him killed one day, I swear.”

Just then, however, a green light shot onto the roof of the blacksmith in town, as Gharon emerged, his staff glowing with a pale green energy.

“Minions! Servants! Soldiers of the cold dark! Rise, and obey the call of the Deathking!” Gharon yelled, as recently dead vampires shot up from the earth, retaining the wounds that killed them. As the heroes were surrounded by these zombified vampires, a red light suddenly shot into the center of them, knocking away many of the vampires, as Cecil arose from his landing point, staring up at Gharon.

“I never said we were finished!” Cecil said, drawing his sword.

“You are persistent, aren’t you?”

Gharon flew off the roof to strike Cecil, as the rest of the heroes moved to engage the vampiric horde. Gharon’s staff ignited in a pale green flame as he locked with Cecil once again. As Cecil dashed away, he moved in to strike again, but Gharon avoided the blow, reappearing behind Cecil and striking him with a mass of green energy. Stumbling forwards a bit from the attack, Cecil turned and swung out, slashing away at Gharon’s cheek. A green gauntlet of energy appeared around Gharon’s free arm, as a long whip, covered in thorns sprouted from his hand, as he swung at Cecil. Grabbing the end of the whip, Cecil overpowered Gharon, pulling him to the side. Gharon lunged and clawed Cecil across the chest, but suddenly felt Noire dive into him, attempting to rip Gharon’s face off. Blasting Noire with a bolt of energy, Gharon floated to his feet.

“So, you rely on others to do your fighting for you, pureblood?” Gharon asked

“Didn’t I literally just see you raise a bunch of lackeys to do your work?” Sanguinar retorted, flying next to Cecil as he rose to his feet.

“Is everyone close to you meant to annoy me?

“More or less.” Cecil replied, as he ran forward with his sword. Gharon vanished in a cloud of bats. Reappearing, he started to fire a massive beam of green energy, but was blocked by Lucien blocking it with his blade. As a bolt of fire flew towards him, he dashed out of the way, right into the path of Noire, who knocked him back.

“Show yourself, you coward!” Gharon yelled

“Right here.” He heard Cecil’s voice say, as Cecil suddenly appeared in front of him, and impaled Gharon through the chest.

“Your tricks are starting to get a bit predictable. Reminds me of Cornell a bit.” Cecil said

“Why you accursed-” Gharon suddenly writhed in pain, as Cecil twisted his blade. As Gharon looked around, he saw the last of his forces fall. However, a smile came over his face.

“Your actions matter not. With or without us, the sun shall fall.” He said, as he vanished in a beam of green light. As he left, Cecil sat there, motionless. After a few minutes, he relented, and noticed everyone had left, save for Saber, Rowan, and an animated skeleton they kept with them.

“Uh… Cecil, you alright?” Sanguinar said, flying over to Cecil

“Is Gharon right? Does anything I do matter, or am I just delaying the inevitable?” Cecil asked, now just standing amidst the dead bodies.

“Hey come on man, don’t be like that.”

“I don’t have anyone left to fight for. Once we kill Morlund and separate Eversong from Belwyn, what do I do next? Do I just sit there, waiting for death to take me? Am I just killing out of boredom, and because it’s all I have left now? Am I the monster?”

“Guess we just wait for The Moon Lord’ return, and kill that bastard once and for all. Right?” Sanguinar said.

Without a word, Cecil just sat down, planted his sword in the ground, and sat back against it. Suddenly, the door to a large mansion swung open, as a little girl, no older than seven came out, and approached Saber.

“S-Saber… where’s my dad?”

Cecil immediately picked up, this must be Rayvon’s daughter he spoke of. An overwhelming stench came, as she had a small cut on her knee. Cecil could smell the blood from where he was, and he noticed her blood was rife with disease. She truly was dying.

As Saber reassured her that her dad was fine, and that he would be home soon, Cecil watched as one of her father’s men led her back to the mansion to rest.

“She won’t last long, you know.” Cecil said, looking down. Saber turned to face him

“I could smell her blood. She’s dying.”

“Is there any way to save her?” Saber asked, angrily

Cecil just stared down. He had failed to save her father. He couldn’t help feeling guilty that he was also failing to save her, but he didn’t have an answer, only one unlikely idea. But he still had to try. He knew deep down, that it might be impossible to save her, but he had a choice, and he was going to choose.

“Perhaps…” The Waterfalls of Agharta, where I first met your people… The the waters there are...comforting… healing.”

“You think it can cure her?”

“I can’t answer that question, but we don’t have a choice.”

“Also, how are we even going to get there? It’s like a day-long journey! We’ll never make it!”

“You won’t, but I can.” Cecil said, as he looked down for a second. Red energy began to surround him.

“The Darklands are a living thing, ever changing thing. And living things… can be subjugated. If you want the Abyss to make sense, you have to… force them to!!” Cecil yelled, as he tore open a massive red portal.

“Why… are you helping us?”

“Because I made a choice.”

### Chapter Six: The City of the Damned

In a large, grassy field, sat a massive, building sized tree. The sun shined brightly over this land, as flocks of wildlife frolicked around, without a care in the world. Standing there, staring up at the massive tree, was a young woman, with hair red like roses, and eyes a soft golden-hazel color.

“Why… why am I here?” Rosa asked

“A war is coming, Lady Crownlocke. The one you love will be tested, and will be found lacking.”

“Is that what this is? You brought me here just to watch your sick war? I don’t care what you say, I know Cecil will win.”

“He can win. Tell me, what would you do, if you had a second chance? What if you had the power to save your beloved?”

“Is this a rhetorical question?” Rosa asked. Just then, the roots of the tree parted, to reveal a passageway into the tree.

“Well, I’m already dead. Not like I can die twice in there.” Rosa said, as she descended into the tree. Walking through the dirt and wood hallways, she eventually found a large purple gemstone, glowing with dark energy.

“This is what gives Eversong life. What gives the whole world life. The Forest Soul. Now, it has become tainted, by the one who took your life.” The voice said. Rosa rested her hand on the stone. Pulling her hand away, she noticed a golden handprint.

“Then why me? Why bring me here?”

“Do you see how the stone reacts to you? The Soul is a force of good, of life. As are you. You can become its champion! You can use its power! You can make Eversong whole again, and save the land. You can save Cecil.”

“Me? But… I’m no fighter, I’m no one special. I’m just a girl who died.”

“That’s why I have selected you for this task. Because there is no one left to save the world, in its darkest hour. You, Rosa, can become the Avatar of Vengeance.”

“And in return?”

“Do you know who I am, child? I seek to preserve life, the life of all my children. I want you to succeed. The Moon Lord’s reign will be long and terrible, and your beloved will eventually fail, and die, or worse.”

Rosa touched the stone again, as a flash of golden light shot out from the stone, engulfing her.

\*\*\*

Stepping through the portal; Cecil, Rowan, Saber, and their skeleton friend (named Dem) took in their surroundings.They now found themselves in a large, underground cave complex.

“What is this place?” Saber asked

“From what I've read about ancient vampires, they used to use underground tunnels to travel during the day. I sensed one such tunnel and brought us here. There should be a fast route to Belwyn at the end.”

“Guess we should hurry then?”

“Indeed. The child grows sicker by the moment.”

As the four picked up speed, swiftly walking through the tunnels. During the walk, Cecil spoke up.

“That man, Rayvon. He had some reason to activate the skull, correct? No man acts that desperately without reason.”

“Listen, I know he got us in this mess, but Rayvon was a good man. You only met him once, but he was ready to give everything to save his daughter.”

“Hmm. I’m not surprised. My father would have done the same for me.”

“Yeah?”

“They weren’t too much different, my father and Lord Shadowsong. In the end, my father gave his life to save the world he loved. I suppose I would do the same too.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“Sometimes, one must be selfish to do the right thing for their loved ones. People like to say that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, but its not that simple. Sometimes, you have to turn your back on the world. Even when the world is screaming, you have to plant your feet and act for the people you care about. It sounds selfish, but without the people we care about… what are we?”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that, yeah?”

“Indeed.”

As the four continued to walk through the caverns. Cecil suddenly stopped. Staring ahead, he began to brace himself. Suddenly, out of the shadows came what physically looked like a young woman, but more monstrous than human. Her black hair was matted, and covered her face. She wore a ragged, tan dress, and had pale, white and sickly skin. She seemed to crawl backwards, and on all fours, moving erratically, like she was glitching.

“Stheno…” Cecil said

“Wait, you know her?” Saber asked

“Of her.”

“Indeed, Lord Cecil…” The woman said, drawing out her words, heavily breathing and growling.

“What can we expect to find down here?” Cecil asked

“In the centuries since the two clans fell…. The surviving vampires have build themselves a city, a city of the damned…” Stheno hissed, grinding her claws against the wall.

“Lord Gharon has retreated down here, building his undead army, to destroy the surface world.”

“I see. Then I finally do get to finish that bastard off. Call of the other Gorgons, I can’t let them stand in my way. Clan Bloodmoon can no longer be allowed to exist.”

“Yes, Lord Cecil…” She hissed, as she darted back into the shadows.

As the four of them proceeded through the caverns, fighting off any vampires they came across, they eventually reached a large clearing. What stood in front of them wasn’t really a city, more more of a fortress. Dark iron walls stood tall, as a large number of vampires and undead stood, watching the four from the wall.

“That’s… a lot.” Rowan said, looking up at the gate.

“What’s the plan?” Saber asked

“Simple. Hunt them down like the mongrel dogs they are!” Cecil roared, as he forced open the massive iron gates.

As the four stood, preparing for combat, a horde of undead stood before them. Sanguinar and Noire appeared, ready for a fight.

“Anyone get that weird taste in their mouth right before a fight?” Sanguinar asked, to no response.

“Just me? Cool.”

As the six charged forward, Cecil took on the largest of the undead, a massive bone golem. As it went to crush him, Cecil shifted into his bat form, landing on its neck and severing its head. Warping to the ground, he went to engage two more skeletons. As a vampire lept to dig its fangs into Cecil’s neck, a bolt from Saber’s crossbow shot into its eye. Rowan dodged out of the way of another vampire, and swung his whip to knock down two of the vampires, shooting another bolt from his crossbow into an attacking skal.

Cecil continued to carve a path through the undead army, as he noticed a small cavern entrance at the end of the fortress, a pale green light emitting from the mouth.

“Gharon…” Cecil growled to himself

“You think he’s in there?” Saber asked, also noticing the cave.

“Wouldn’t surprise me, necromancers love to hide behind their undead thralls.”

“Heh, I know the type.” Saber said

Cecil charged forward, almost in a blind rage, and cutting down everything in his path. As the four of them entered the inner sanctum. A large cavern sat before them, with a massive stone coffin sitting on a ledge before a massive cliff drop.

Suddenly, the coffin burst open, as a massive skeleton rose out of it, bathed in green light and black, frilled robes. A long, whip like weapon, with a dozen metal scythe blades lining it surrounded him.

“And here they are… The so called ‘Dragon of Belwyn, and the lord of the dead.” the Lich said, towering over the four.

“Gharon… You’ve finally lost your mind.”

“As I said, Lord Zarovich. Only the strong survive. The weak shall be winnowed, and shall scatter like dust. The Moon Lord will bring darkness eternal to this world, and my people shall reign supreme.”

“You still think you’re in the right? This isn’t saving your people, this is genocide!”

“Enough. History will decide who’s right. But that’s the future, and now: this conversation is over. You shall pay for my defeat at Little Oak!”

Slamming his whip down, the four dodged out of the way, as Cecil went to engage. Locking blades, Gharon easily overpowered Cecil, knocking him away. Swinging out, he cut away at Saber and Rowan. As Rowan stumbled to his feet, he imbued a curse into his crossbow, and shot a bolt into Gharon’s chest. Suddenly, he noticed he was surrounded by a wall of blades, as Gharon’s whip was spinning around, preventing him from escaping.

“Rowan… your parents have turned their backs on you… forever shall you remain an exile, from your own homeland!”

Rowan was taken aback by this, but quickly regained focus, and renewed his attack on Gharon. Cecil suddenly slashed at the scythe, interrupting it. As the fight renewed, Gharon began to focus on Saber.

“Saber… forsaken by what little family you have left. How long can you write in agony before it claims you forever…?

“Fuck you!” Saber yelled, firing a bolt into Gharon’s skull, but Gharon just shrugged off the attack, swinging his whip around, and firing bolts of green energy at the heroes. As Cecil ran back in to attack, Gharon blocked it with a shield of pale green energy. As his whip began to spin around them again, blocking the other’s attacks, Gharon stared down at Cecil.

“All your failures, those you’ve lost, everything has led to this, Cecil. And in the end, you’ve failed. And when you die, The Moon Lord will claim your soul, his favorite plaything for all eternity. I shall cast you into the darkness where you spawned! Even in death, you will never see your beloved Rosa again!” Gharon yelled.

Cecil suddenly shot a glare at Gharon, a look that could kill in an instant. Like a hungry animal, he eyed Gharon, as red gauntlets formed around his arms, razor sharp claws formed on the tips of his fingers.

“Oh shit.” Sanguinar said.

Cecil charged into Gharon, in a blind rage tearing him apart like a carnivorous wolf rips into its prey. Gharon’s pompous attitude quickly turned into cries of pain, as Cecil tore his body apart, piece by piece. As Gharon begged for mercy and screamed in agony, Cecil couldn’t even hear him anymore, as he finally tore open Gharon’s chest, ripping a black, beating heart from him, crushing it in his hand. And it felt good.

Stumbling back, Cecil fell to a knee, panting. Black blood covered his hands, as his gauntlets dissolved. Saber and the others just stared, wide eyed at Cecil, who with one last roar just ran back to Gharon’s mangled and mutilated body, punching it in a rage. Waiting a minute, Sanguinar gently flapped onto Cecil’s shoulder.

“Hey man, it’s alright. It’s over now.”

Panting, Cecil regained control, catching his breath. Sanguinar noticed Cecil wiped a tear away from his eye. But Sanguinar knew better than to make a joke.

“Am I like them? Am I the monster?”

“Even if you are, who gives a shit? You’re still fighting for what’s right!”

“Am I? Or am I just killing because it’s all I have left?”

“Look, killing him saved a lot of people today. Monsters don’t save people.” Rowan said, stepping forward.

“Cecil just stared down, before standing up. Red energy began to flow around him, as he ripped open another portal.

As the group stepped out of the portal, they once again found themselves in Vandelheim. As the rest of the group proceeded to the Waterfalls, Cecil stumbled a bit, almost dragging himself forward. As they reached the Waterfalls, it felt oddly relaxing, even for being in Belwyn. A small family of birds lived in a tree nearby, showing life could still exist here. Cecil took a knee, feeling weighed down. Saber drew a large vial from his pack, and stepped into the water. The water felt oddly warm, and safe. Scooping the water into the vial, Saber stared at it a bit, before frowning.

“Cecil are you sure this water has any sort of magical properties? I don’t think this is gonna wo-”

But before Saber could finish, a flash of golden light appeared in front of him, as a young, red haired woman stood before him.

“You uh, need some help with that?” Rosa asked, smiling. As she took the vial into her hand, it began to glow with a soft, soothing light. As Saber took the vial back, the water now glowed with a brilliant golden light. Saber now knew, this would work. As Rosa looked up, she locked eyes with Cecil, who stared, dumbfounded. It was almost like she was there, but she wasn’t. She was slightly transparent, and bathed in a heavenly glow.

“Hey uh, Saber. Come here, I got something to show you, and I think we should give these two some time.” Rowan said. As the rest of the group left, Rosa almost teleported to Cecil, taking a seat in front of him.

“Uh… hey. Long time no see?” Rosa said awkwardly. Cecil couldn’t even move for a few seconds, before he managed to regain himself.

“Rosa…? Are you-”

“Alive? Sorry Ceec, still deadsville.”

“God… I’m so sorry. I’ve failed you, and everyone else I know…”

“We’re all proud, you know. Even after everything, you still fight for what you believe in. I’ve never thought of you as a monster, Ceec. Not back when I was alive, and not when you tore Gharon a new one. After everything that’s happened, I still believe in you.”

Cecil just stared down for a bit. A storm of guilt raged inside him, but seeing her again. Hearing what he needed to hear, gave him a small bit of hope. As he looked up again, Rosa started to fade.

“Whoop, visiting hours are up…”

“Wait, please don’t go.”

“Cecil…. Will you hold me, while I fade away?”

“Of… of course.”

Rosa turned, and laid back, in Cecil’s arms. Closing her eyes as if to fall asleep, she smiled.

“I won’t be far, prince. I’m always with you.” Rosa said, as she faded away.

Cecil felt like crying was the right thing to do, as the emptiness filled him again. But he didn’t. He felt oddly happy, and at peace. Hearing her voice one last time, that was all he needed.

### Chapter Seven: The Final Stand

As Cecil and the group returned to Little Oak, Saber and Rowan rushed off to Shadowsong Manor to give Linthea the cure. It didn’t take long for the emptiness to set in. Although Cecil was overjoyed to see Rosa for one more time, he realized that it was addictive. He wanted more, god damn it. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but one thought nagged at him: “What if this was the last time he would see her again?”

Still though, seeing her one more time had given him a spark of resolve. He knew that there was a job that must be done. Through some divine miracle she had returned to him for a fleeting moment, but now the real work began. It was time to make her proud. The rest of the Shadowhunters were filled with that same spark of resolve. They had lost to Morlund the first time, but they had all come back from their own journeys. Carrying new weapons and experiences, they all stood in Shadowsong Manor, ready for anything the world could throw at them.

Gathering around a large table in the banquet hall, Cecil watched once again as General Iolodren, Commander of the Black Rose Knight forces in Ravenloft, surrounded by the heroes he had met in Ravenloft. Joining them were the Oath of Shadows, a guild of assassins closely associated with Lord Anzu, the guardian who watched over the world in times of crisis. Sçad, knowing the most about the area around the citadel, was a natural choice to lead the forces native to the area. He had pulled a large map of Northern Eversong to the table, as he and Iolodren discussed unit placement and pathing, splitting their forces into small but strong platoons, eventually reconvening in front of the Dark CItadel. Once the heroes arrived at the Dark Citadel, a small strike team would enter, while the rest of the army would hold off the vampiric forces on the ground. As for what to do with Morlund if he was defeated? It took less than a minute to decide.

As the Army was divided, Cecil was placed alongside a contingent of soldiers, most of them newer recruits. While distrustful of him at first due to his own vampiric nature, they quickly changed their tune when he single handedly took down an entire horde of undead, saving all their lives in the process. They could do without Sanguinar though, he just made jokes the whole time.

Finally, the heroes reconvened at the bridge to the Dark Citadel. Eversong hadn’t been fully consumed yet, so the tower hadn’t reached its full height yet. As the rest of the heroes behind him said their goodbyes to those going to fight in the ground battle, Cecil took a step onto the bridge, looking up at the top of the Citadel. He knew Morlund was at the top, just waiting for them. And he would tear this tower apart, piece by piece, just to kill Morlund.

As the Shadowhunters finished their goodbyes, they split ways. Cecil, Zia, Kana, Saber, Ulixes, and Xion would infiltrate the tower and kill Morlund, while everyone else moved out, ready to lay down their lives in defense of the world.

As the six of them entered the Tower, they stepped into a massive, darkened grand hall. A long, ornate rug ran along the hall, with a massive, stained glass window sat embedded in the ceiling, letting moonlight pierce through. At the end of the hall stood a massive door, guarded by a group of vampires: one vulkod, and a group of standard Ekons.

Cecil and Zia moved ahead to engage the Vulkod. As Zia ran forward, massive white wings burst from her back, as her rapier split into two separate rapiers, as she dove into two of the approaching vampires, killing them. Cecil dashed around another vampire’s attacks, reappearing behind his attacker and slashing his head off with one clean stroke. As the Vulkod went to swing into Cecil, he blocked it, shoving the vulkod back. Swiping into him, Zia emerged from behind and stabbed the Vulkod, killing him. As more and more vampires came crawling down the walls, the rest of the group spread out to engage. Three skals charged after him, but were quickly taken down with a flurry of sword slashes. Cecil turned and blocked another sword swing, as an Ekon roared at him. Holding him back, Cecil pulled his second sword from its sheath and slashed the vampire upside the chest. As the vampire fell, the rest of the group finished with their fights.

Forcing the massive door open, Cecil and the group ran up the massive spiral stairs to the top floor. Stepping out into a large balcony, Cecil looked over the edge to check on the army. However, he stared down in anger as he noticed they were losing.

“Shit, what are we going to do?” Kana asked

“I’m heading down there, I’m not letting Rowan or anyone die!” Saber said

“No. Your place is here. You’ve come this far together, and you can end it together. Morlund has a better chance of winning if your group is fractured, I can save your friends.” Cecil said.

“Don’t you want another shot at killing Morlund?” Saber asked.

“More than anything, but right now, I need to focus on what matters, not my own vengeances.” Cecil said, as he leapt from the balcony, shifting into a massive bat as he descended.

Rowan, Lucien, and the others stood, fighting off increasingly large numbers of vampires. For every one they killed, three more seemed to take its place. One of them charged into Rowan, clawing into him as he tried to knock it off. As the leaders of the army began to tire out, something slammed into the earth next to them, as a massive shockwave of red energy exploded around them, disintegrating the vampires near them and knocking many of the others back. Cecil rose from the earth, glowing with red energy and holding his two swords.

“Cecil? What happened? Where are the others?” Iolodren said, standing up.

“I sent them ahead. They’re strong enough, and if we lose here than all is lost. I won’t lose any of your men in pursuit of my vengeance.”

“Glad to have you then. You ready to kill some bloodsuckers? No offense.”

“I’m always ready.”

Morlund sat on his throne, drinking from a tankard of human blood. Bored, he yawned as he twirled his greatsword.

“I give Cecil two minutes before I go find him and kick his ass.”

**“Patience, Conqueror. Your duel will come soon enough. We have company”** He heard the Moon Lord’s voice say, as the throne room door burst open. He looked up excitedly, but frowned when the Shadowhunters ran in, minus Cecil.

“Aw come on, not you guys! I wanted the emo one!” Morlund groaned.

“Yeah? Well you got us! You should have expe-” Kana tried to say

“Yeah yeah, heroes will always rise against tyrants and all that crap. Look let’s just get this over with, I had a whole speech planned but I don’t know you guys well enough to say it so fuck it.” Morlund said, lifting his sword onto his shoulder.

“Gladly.” Kana said, as the rest of the group prepared for battle.

Charging headfirst to meet the heroes in battle, Morlund made the first blow. Zia had stepped in to protect the heroes, and took the full brunt of the attack as she tried to block his attacks with both her rapiers. Just barely holding off the attack, Morlund was set upon by Kana drawing her sword, sending a flurry of slashes into him, while various firebolts, crossbow bolts, and throwing axes were sent his way. Most of them bounced off or dissolved against him. All this time in the Moon Lord’s unholy domain, soaking up his power had changed Morlund, making him stronger. Stronger than he had ever felt before. Slashing at Zia, she was sent flying backwards, barely being caught by Ulixes’ magic. Saber dodged out of the way of Morlund’s blasts of energy, firing his crossbow. One bolt found its mark in his neck, while the rest missed or bounced off his armor. As Morlund ran to attack Saber, he dodged out of the way of Morlund’s swings, as an axe flew into Morlund’s back. As Zia lifted into the air, her rapiers began glowing with silver light, as she charged into Morlund, one of her rapiers stabbing into his chest as the other pierced his shoulder. Throwing Zia off, a bolt of fire nailed him in the back. Panting, Morlund spun around and started to glow with darkened energy.

**“They are… stronger than I anticipated. Fall back, we shall make our stand at the summit of the citadel.”** Morlund heard the Moon Lord’s voice call out. Shooting an angry look at the heroes, he stood up.

“This isn’t over. I still got one more trick!” Morlund shouted, as he collapsed out the window. As Zia and Kana went to investigate, a massive winged creature shot up the side of the tower, a loud roaring sound startling them. They heard what sounded like stones shifting, as a doorway opened behind the throne.

Racing up the stairs behind the throne, they came to the Citadel’s rooftop, a massive arena, with a massive throne overlooking the battlefield. A massive, robed skeleton sat on the throne, observing the scene. In the middle of the arena, stood a large gargoyle-like creature, with large grey wings and blackened horns, towering over the heroes.

“What do ya think, Shadowhunters? This is what the champion of a god looks like!” The creature said, Morlund’s voice emanating from it.

“Yeah, that might be the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.” Kana said

“Believe me, after I’m done with y’all, you’re gonna be looking a helluva lot worse!” He roared, taking flight. The heroes just barely had time to move as he slammed down into the center of them. Zia tried to stab him, but barely made a scratch against his stone-like hide. He turned, clawing her across the chest and arm, leaving several bleeding gashes. Kana tried to slash one of his wings off, but he turned and blocked the sword, lifting her and slamming her onto the ground. Xion tried to throw her axe, but couldn’t even make a dent, as Morlund tackled her, swiping Saber and Ulixes with his tail. Zia soared into the air, white angelic wings bursting from her back. She charged down to attack Morlund again, and as she stabbed through his hand, he turned to hurl her off the ledge, her rapiers sticking out of his hands. Xion got up to attack with her axe, but Morlund slashed with Zia’s rapiers still stabbed into his hands, slicing Xion’s face. A crossbow bolt found its mark in his side, as Saber started rapid firing bolts into his flesh. A large fireball exploded against his back as Ulixes scrambled to her feet. Zia flew back into the fray, managing to pull her rapiers from Morlund’s hands, though not without being shoulder charged by him. She tried one more time, and this time managed to find her mark in his chest. As he angrily stared at her, Morlund exploded with black and red light, his normal vampire form emerged, now glowing with dark energy, knocking the other heroes down.

“Miss me?” He asked, as he swung his sword down repeatedly into her, just barely being blocked.

\*\*\*

As Cecil and the other army leaders fought, they still couldn’t hold back the horde of vampires. Even though Cecil’s arrival had given them a momentary respite, the tide of darkness continued to rise. Suddenly, as Cecil was surrounded on all sides by the scourge, a small glimmer of light appeared in front of him. In a flash, a massive explosion of light burst out, turning thousands of vampires to ash, weaving its way around the soldiers, giving them a sense of comfort and peace as it flowed through them, healing their wounds.

At the summit of the tower, the heroes fought a losing battle against Morlund, at the height of his power. Morlund was pressing his blade towards Zia, ready to impale her.

Suddenly, a massive burst of golden light exploded in the center of them, throwing Morlund back. Squinting, Morlund looked into the light for a second, only to see the figure of what looked like a young woman.

“Aw fucking he-” Morlund tried to say as a ray of pure sunlight enveloped him, turning him to ash. As the light cleared, Rayvon’s battered form lay unconscious where Morlund once stood, alive, but only barely. As the golden light faded, The Moon Lord rose from his throne.

**“So the Dark Lord falls, and the heroes stand victorious. Enjoy your storybook ending, Shadowhunters. Soon, your world will fall into darkness…”**

“When that happens, you won’t find us easy to take down.” Kana said, standing and drawing her sword from its sheath. As he faded away, The Moon Lord’s laughter could be heard.

On the ground, The Moon Lord’s departure turned the tide of the battle. Many of the vampires and undead had been wiped out, and the rest were either quickly killed or fled. There was no one left to lead them, and no cause left to fight for. Looking up to the summit of the tower, Cecil shifted into a bat, flying to the top.

As the heroes sat to rest after the battle, they heard the flapping of wings behind them. A large bat flew onto the top of the Citadel, as it reverted back into its humanoid form.

“So, the battle has been won, then?” Cecil asked

“Yeah, big guy left though.” Kana said

“I see.”

“Is he why the sun isn’t coming out yet? We beat Morlund and his army of darkness, what else do we need to do?” Zia asked, bandaging her wounds.

“Belwyn and Eversong are still connected. As long as Eversong remains tainted, daylight shall never return. It’s my duty to end this, now. Farewell, Shadowhunters. We shall not meet again.” Cecil said. He turned around, tore open a massive red portal, and stepped through.

Shortly after Cecil left, the sky began to brighten, and the sun tore through the blackened clouds. And so, with the threat to their world over, the heroes went home. Gathering at Shadowsong Manor, they were reunited with their friends and loved ones. Linthea would survive her illness, and would go on to live a full and happy life raised by her father, who had learned a valuable lesson. Kana and Lucien would go on to be married, and lived a little ways outside Blueleaf. Ulixes and her father went home, having adopted Xion as a surrogate sister and been reunited with her mother. And Zia would stand by her sister Kana, eventually finding her own path, fighting for justice wherever it needed to be found.

However, one story was still not finished yet. There was one more battle that was to be fought. One more sacrifice to be made.

### Chapter Eight: Only Us

As Cecil stepped through the portal, he found himself in front of the massive world tree, with the rest of the world around him seemingly frozen in time. He also noticed he felt strangely alone. Trying to call out for his familiars, he scowled a bit when there was no response. Still though, he carried on, it was his responsibility to end all this.

But as he went to enter the tree, a gate of dark energy suddenly barred him from entering, as the world around him grew cold and dark, as the moon seemed to tear through the sky, shaking the earth as it descended. Growing closer and closer, it seemed to eclipse the entire sky, as it stopped within miles of the ground.

**“Even after everything that has happened, still you fight…”** Cecil heard a voice say, as The Moon Lord appeared, donned in blackened armor.

“You made me like this. You made me immortal. And I have nothing left, except for this. Except for the fight. The thought of killing you is what keeps me going. I can’t fail everyone you’ve taken from me, and I can’t allow myself to lose.”

**“I admire your tenacity, but Belwyn is my domain. I shall not relinquish it to the last broken son of a broken house.”**

As he said this, Cecil noticed something coming at him from the side. At the last moment, he raised his sword, blocking Morlund’s massive greatsword. As he tried to dodge backwards, Morlund shoulder charged him, and swung downward into him, causing Cecil to go flying back, slamming into the earth. As Cecil scrambled to his feet, he looked and saw a massive bolt of black energy fly into him, knocking him onto his back, pain coursing through his entire body. Black lightning seemed to shoot from The Moon Lord’s fingertips, sending shock waves throughout Cecil’s entire body. Refusing to give up or beg for mercy, Cecil gritted his teeth, and pushed himself on the ground, but felt Morlund stomp him back onto the ground with all his might, knocking the last of his energy out of him.

“You noticing any parallels here, Zarovich?” Morlund laughed, pressing down on Cecil.

“Yeah, you’re running your mouth when you haven’t even won yet.” Cecil said through his teeth.

**“Defiant, even in the bitter end. Your Uncle would have loved you. Perhaps I’ll allow you to meet him, before I devour your soul.”** The Moon Lord gloated, increasing the lightning coming from his fingertips. Finally, after a few minutes, he stopped. **“Deathking, dispose of him. I am tired of his family.”**

“Gladly.” Morlund chuckled, as he stabbed his sword into Cecil’s back, missing his heart by an inch. “Aw quit struggling you little shit!”

As Morlund pulled his sword out and raised it again, he plunged it towards Cecil’s heart. Just before it made contact, however, a quick flash of golden energy, and Morlund was blasted backwards.

As the ground began to shake again, Cecil looked up. The Sun was tearing through the sky, forcing the moon back, as the world around them shifted to a more neutral temperature. Standing over him, as if to protect him was Rosa, still in her ghostly form, a massive wall of golden energy surrounding them, acting as a shield. Rosa quickly knelt down, and placed her hands on Cecil’s wounds.

“Hey, it's okay now, I’m here. They didn’t hurt you too badly, did they?” She said, a concerned look on her face.

“I’ve been through worse.” Cecil said, sitting up. Rosa giggled a bit, and planted a kiss on his forehead. Strangely, it actually made the pain go away.

“Come on, let’s finish this.”

“Gladly.” Cecil said, his sword forming in his hand

Morlund stared in anger as the shield came down. Cecil looked completely uninjured, and Rosa stood with two wells of gold energy in her hands.

“Even in death, you continue to piss me off.” Morlund growled

“That makes two of us.” Rosa shot back angrily

“Which one do you want?” She asked

“I’ll take Morlund. I’ve been dying to kill him again this whole time.” Cecil said, eyeing Morlund

“Good, Moony’s really been starting to piss me off lately.” Rosa said. Without another word, Rosa fired a massive beam of golden light at The Moon Lord. Blocking it with a massive shield of darkness, he moved to engage.

**“You truly think to kill me? A god?”**

“And you’re trying to kill a ghost. What’s your point?” Rosa asked, unfazed.

Roaring in anger, The Moon Lord summoned a massive hammer, clouded with dark energy, and swung down, knocking her down.

“Why do I say these things?” Rosa mumbled under her breath, as she fired a burst of golden energy from her palm, pushing The Moon Lord back a few feet and giving her time to stand up. Reigniting the golden energy in her hands, she ran back in to re-engage. As he swung down again, she dodge out of the way this time, firing a quick blast of energy into his face. The Moon Lord quickly pulled his hammer up and swung it towards her side. Blocking it with a shield of light, Rosa vanished, reappearing behind him and firing a bolt of light as his back.

Clashing their swords together, Cecil and Morlund locked eyes from the moment the duel began, seeing if either one of them showed any signs of weakness. Cecil continued to hit Morlund with quick and precise slashes, while avoiding his massive and brutal swings. As the duel raged on, Morlund became increasingly aggressive. While it allowed Cecil to take advantage of his lack of defense easier, it also meant Cecil had to stay cautious. One slip up meant trouble. As Cecil saw an opening in Morlund’s defenses, he went to stab him through the chest. Unfortunately, Morlund feigned the opening, whacking Cecil with the pommel of his sword, and knocking him off balance. Cecil just barely dodged Morlund’s follow up slash, but was now on the backfoot, focusing on blocking his attacks with all of his strength and hoping Morlund would eventually tire himself out.

As Rosa and The Moon Lord continued their fight, The Moon Lord suddenly vanished, and reappeared right in front of Rosa, swinging down his hammer against her. As she strained to shield herself from it, he began to laugh.

**“Tell me, what do you fear most? Is it your father, and his ever controlling grip on your life? The death of your broken beloved, who even after three centuries still holds fast to your memory? Or is it being cast into Oblivion, to be forgotten by the world, and to burn in hellfire for all eternity?”**

“I’m afraid of what I’m gonna have to do if you don’t actually shut the fuck up. You think I’m afraid of you and your attack dog? I’m dead, I have nothing left to be afraid of.” Rosa growled back, as she began to push back The Moon Lord’s hammer.

**“We shall see about that, won’t we?”** The Moon Lord said, suddenly pulling back, turning to Cecil, he began to fire massive amounts of dark energy at him. As Rosa went to shield him, she noticed Morlund’s blade flying at her. Vanishing just in time, Rosa reappeared, locking eyes with Morlund as he stared her down, an evil grin on his face.

“Heh, you do realize you’ve never won a fight before, right?” Morlund taunted

“Never lost one either, technically.” Rosa fired back, shaping her golden energy into a longsword, resembling her father’s. As Morlund charged in for the first attack, Rosa stumbled out of the way, thinking about every time she had Cecil win a sword fight, figuring out what the key to winning was.

Dark wings formed around Cecil as he blocked The Moon Lord’s attacks. As they suddenly burst open, he dodged out of the way of The Moon Lord’s hammer just in time, and went to counter with his own attack. Staying on the backfoot, Cecil saw The Moon Lord preparing another spell. As he saw the blackened lightning firing towards him, he raised his sword, blocking with all his might. Holding back the lightning as long as he could, he began to walk forward, his sword seeming to absorb the magic. Swinging to the side, he charged forward as The Moon Lord prepared another swing, but he wasn’t fast enough as Cecil swung into his chestplate, a massive blast of lightning emitting from the swing.

Rosa continued to clumsily dodge around Morlund’s brutal swings, still not able to find her footing. As she dodged backwards, she and Cecil stood back to back, swords raised.

“Uh… hey Ceec, how do I use a sword?” Rosa asked, watching as Morlund approached, brushed his cape away.

“Morlund’s short sighted, use that to your advantage and look for an opening in his attacks. Put your back into it and don’t lose your balance. And if you’re certain you’re going to hit, don’t hold off, even a little bit.” Cecil said, looking for an opening in The Moon Lord’s defenses.

As the two of them charged back into combat, Rosa dodged around the first swing, tripping a bit as she did so. As Morlund followed up with a side-swing, she ducked under that. As a downward swing came, she sidestepped, quickly swiping at Morlund, managing to land a blow on his cheek. As another swing came, she blocked this one, running her blade along his as she suddenly ducked under his arms and slashing through his armor with all her might, cutting through his side, a large burst of blood shooting from Morlund’s side. As she caught her breath, her magic started to fade. Morlund clutched at his side, grunting angrily. As he arose, he began to approach again.

“When I kill someone, I want them to stay de-” Morlund tried to say, as suddenly Cecil’s blade tore through his abdomen.

“Yeah? You did the same shit, you fucking hypocrite!” Rosa yelled

As Morlund turned to swing again, Cecil ducked under the attack, pulling Rosa’s father’s blade from its hilt and stabbing it into Morlund’s chest repeatedly. As he went for another stab, The Moon Lord began to shoot a mass of black lightning at him, but Rosa regained her breath in time, and ran to shield Cecil. As Morlund clutched his greatsword, Cecil’s sword disappeared from his chest and reappeared in his hand. With one last charge he felt Morlund’s blade stab into his leg as he stabbed right into Morlund’s torso with all of his might, pushing him to the ground. As Morlund tried to attack, Cecil pressed his blade even further in, pinning him down. Rosa suddenly forced her shield to the side, throwing The Moon Lord off balance. With one split second reaction, Rosa fired a massive beam of golden light into The Moon Lord. As he tried to retaliate, Rosa used all of the energy she could, as massive cracks of light appeared all over The Moon lord’s armor. The Moon Lord roared as he exploded in a flash of golden light, leaving his wrecked and broken armor behind.

Stabbing his blade into Morlund one last time, Cecil stopped and watched as the moon faded away from this realm.

“You know, nothing you do matters, right? You’ve won today, but tomorrow, you’ll be right back to where you started.” Morlund coughed out, blood streaming from his mouth and face.

“And your actions do? With or without us, the sun will always rise. You’d be arrogant to assume otherwise.”

“Well, when you have an actual god on your side, things start mattering.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that.” Rosa said

“See you all… In hell.” Morlund said, as he died.

Cecil pulled his swords from Morlund, leaving his body to dissolve in the sunlight. He looked over, and noticed Rosa was starting to fade away as well. As she struggled to stay on her feet, she began to fall over, but Cecil was able to catch her in time, as she fell into his arms.

“Heh… not bad, huh?” Rosa asked

“You were great out there.”

“Thanks!”

As the darkness around them cleared, the energy in front of the tree faded away, allowing them access to the inner sanctum.

“Oh shit!” Rosa said, leaping out of Cecil’s arms. The Forest Soul had become almost completely engulfed in darkness, and only a little bit was shining through. Rosa tried to use her magic to purify it, but she just wasn’t strong enough.

“Cecil… I can’t.” Rosa said, looking to Cecil worriedly.

“I know what we need to do. What I need to do.” Cecil said, running his hand along the crystal. Rosa looked shocked for a second, before looking down at the crystal. Cecil spoke up again

“When we… purify this… what happens to you?” he asked

“If this is what’s letting me materialize like this then… I’ll fade away.” Rosa said. Cecil looked at the Forest Soul, a pained expression across his face.

“Cecil, you-”

“I know. This needs to be done. Just… promise me something.” Cecil said, looking up at Rosa

“Anything”

“Whatever happens, and wherever we end up. Promise me, you’ll think of me.”

“Forever and always.”

“Thank you” Cecil said, as he raised his hand over the gemstone. Suddenly, the dark energy began to shoot into his hand, engulfing him. Cecil cried in agony, as he felt his whole body consumed by darkness.

“Cecil?!”

“Do it!”

Rosa began to fire a beam of golden light into the crystal, warding off the darkness. As Cecil siphoned more of the darkness out of the gem, he started to stand up. Black wings burst from his back as he started to glow with red energy.

“Forever shall I be a thorn in his side! Rage... Vengeance... darkness… All that I am... I am, the dragon! I am… the prince of darkness! He shall come, to fear me!” Cecil roared. As purple cracks began to appear all over his body, he turned to Rosa.

“Nothing else matters… Only us.” He choked out, before he felt the darkness engulf him, as he felt his body turn to ash and dust.

Rosa looked as the Forest Soul burned with a brilliant light, before looking to where Cecil once stood. Rosa smiled, as she began to fade away.

“Only us.”

## Act Two: The Red Death

### Chapter Nine: Arrival

“Hey Rosa?” Cecil asked, as the two sat together back to back.

“Mmm?” Rosa replied, resting her head on Cecil’s back.

“When we planned to get married all those years ago… were you ready to become immortal, and spend eternity… with me?” he asked

“Hmm, never really thought about that… But yeah, I probably would have to be honest.” she said, still resting her head.

Cecil chuckled a bit.

“Guess we’ll find out how it all ends, soon enough, huh?” Rosa asked, now standing up.

Cecil still sat, staring down at the ground, before replying.

“Guess so.” he said, as the dream around him began to fade away, and Cecil left that sunny field again.

*The lands of Belwyn sat perpetually in eternal night. The sun had not risen in this land for centuries, and the light of the moon was all the people knew. Or what was left of the people. The last major human settlement of Vandelheim sat abandoned, its once prosperous shops now lay bare, its once populous streets now vacant, and its once proud estates in ruins. All of its residents had either been killed long ago, or fled, leaving the town to fall apart over three hundred years. All the residents except one.*

 *On the northwestern edge of town sat the church. Once a peaceful place of worship and sanctuary, was now a dark, desolate ruin. In the clock tower, a figure sat on a throne, carved from stone. The figure sat, his white hair falling over his pale, scarred face, his red eyes staring into the goblet he held, filled with blood, his other hand clutching the throne’s armrest, his nails, almost like claws, seemed to dig into the stone.*

*At the same time, a lone, shrouded figure walked into the church, his face obscured by darkness. As he walked through the cathedral, he noticed a number of notable marks. A large hole in the wall, as if a sword had been stabbed through it, and a large sword on the ground, covered in dry blood and dust. In the middle of the floor, a few drops of dried blood. As the figure continued forward toward where the clock tower began, he stared up, through the stairwell. Almost effortlessly, he began to levitate off the ground, and ascend to the top. Walking into the top of the tower, now having been turned into a large throne room ,he moved to look out the hole in the wall, where the clock once sat.*

“**An unusual hiding place, for the prince of darkness…”** The cloaked figure said, his raspy voice booming, scaring nearby crows on the ceiling.

“Why are you here?” The red eyed figure said, still staring into his cup.

“**Checking in on an… old friend. I see the rumors of your… death... were greatly… exaggerated.**”

“Old… friend?”

“**Have you been here… the whole time… Son of Vigo and Alexandra?**”

“Don’t you dare call me that! You are not fit to even say their names!” Cecil roared, dashing out of his seat. In the blink of an eye, he was upon the cloaked figure, ready to bury his fangs into his neck. As he bit down, however, the cloak fell to the floor, the figure gone, leaving only laughing in the room. As Cecil looked out the window, he saw a flash of red light in the distance, as his body morphed into bat form and took off.

*To the east of Vandelheim, a small cave had formed, an area known as The Waterfalls of Agharta. Two graves sat here. One, a simple wooden cross, and the other, a large, unmarked headstone, covered in a bed of flowers. Flowers seemed to cover the entire cave system the waterfalls occupied. But one of the graves sat disturbed. As Cecil arrived at the waterfalls, he quickly saw that the more ornate grave had been opened. Seething, he started to glow with a crimson energy, and began to scream out on agony. With fury unbridled, he truly did earn his nickname as **The Dragon of Belwyn.***

### Chapter Ten: Burn It Down

*"I used to be afraid of my own reflection. I grew so used to seeing the humans of Vandelheim, with their normal eyes and normal skin, that when I looked upon myself in the mirror, I was afraid of the monster that looked back at me. I was afraid of what others thought of me. Did my parents see me in the same way? Surely the cursed vampire son of Great House Zarovich would have brought shame and disgust to them. To the whole family. But I soon grew out of that feeling. Even with my true visage as a Vampire, Rosa was not deterred. She said that what I was on the outside didn't matter. only who I was on the inside. That she didn't care what I looked like, that I was one of the few to show her kindness. If only she could see me now..." -Cecil Von Zarovich*

Collapsing onto his knees, Cecil looked down at the empty grave. He clutched some of the dirt around the opening. Clenching his fist, he just stared at the headstone. The surrounding area, once a place of tranquil beauty, was gradually turning rotted and corrupting around him.

“I’m going to find him, the bastard that did this. I’m going to make him pay.” Cecil said

“You know he’s not going to be that hard to find, right? Belwyn isn’t exactly filled with uh… giant skeletons in a dress.” he heard a voice behind him say.

“Rosa?” Cecil said, shocked. Rosa’s image stood before him, a dim golden light enveloping her.

“Surprise!” She said, smiling

“I thought… I thought you couldn’t come back? Is this… real?”

“Shhh. Pretend for a second that it doesn’t matter. Just hold that feeling close. Feels nice, doesn’t it?” She said, shushing him, as they embraced. “Besides, I still have a small amount of magic left from The Forest Soul. It's faint, but throwing projections of myself isn’t that hard.” She said

“How many times now… have I failed you?”

“I don’t know, I don’t keep track of that.” she said, as she took a step back. The two sat in silence for a moment, before Rosa turned and faced the grave.

“Thanks for the whole burial and everything. Not a lot of people would have bothered.”

“I swear I didn’t plant those flowers there.They just kind of appeared.”

“I know. That was me. I see they made a good sleeping place though.” She said, looking at a large bed of flowers, an imprint made in them, as if someone had slept there.”

“I haven’t been to Zarovich manor since my return. There’s nothing left for me there. Nothing left for me here anymore.”

“What now? You know you can’t beat the Moon Lord, not on your own!”

“And you know can’t let him complete his plan to conquer the mortal worlds.”

“I know that… I just, I don’t want to see you die.”

“Then I go to my death. If my sacrifice means stopping or delaying The Moon Lord, giving the mortal world even a moment more to prepare, then I gladly go.”

“You’re really ready to die just to spite the Moon Lord, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“Well then I’m coming with you. I’m staying with you till the end!” Rosa said

“Thank you.” Cecil said, smiling.

“You wanna see Vandelheim one last time, before the end?” he asked

“Sure, why not.” She said. They didn’t say much on the walk to town, but they didn’t need to, they just quietly walked and held hands.

“Town used to be beautiful once. Still is, in a sad way.” Rosa said mournfully, as the two of them looked at the ruined stone and wooden buildings. They first visited the bakery, where the two of them first met.

“Arth used to make such good bread. I don’t know how he managed to keep the whole town happy.” Cecil said, eyeing where once stood, waiting for his mother while she bought fresh bread.

“Not surprising Vandelheim went to shit after he died.” Rosa said.

“How long after I left did he die?”

“Not long, maybe six months?” Vandelheim lived on for another two years afterwards, but Arth’s death was really the beginning of the end. The Siege and your parents leaving hurt, but the town made do and tried to keep going for a while. They were doing fine until King Ravon died, and the whole government of Belwyn fell apart. After that there wasn’t any more funding or trade with the more civilized land out West, and everything just collapsed. Most of the townspeople died, and a few left to try and make it to the Flatlands, but didn’t last long.” Rosa explained. Rosa had been watching over Belwyn during her afterlife. Her soul had been unable to pass on for some reason, so in her free time she would either check up on Cecil or watch over Belwyn.

Cecil didn’t say a word. He felt slightly guilty, maybe if he had stayed after killing Morlund then the town might have had more of a chance. Even if the town had still died, he could have at least guided some of the survivors to the west.

“Are the western regions still populated?” he asked

“Not sure, if they are, they’re probably nothing more than a handful of towns and a handful of people.”

“I commend their ability to stay alive after all this time.”

“Me too.” Rosa said, as she turned and saw the church where she died, three centuries ago. Her expression completely changed, to one of so many emotions, none of them good.

“Are you sure you want to go in there?” Cecil asked

“No. Not really.”

“Me neither.”

The two of them turned away from the church, and walked towards the hill to Zarovich manor. As they reached the gate, it still remained open from when the Shadowhunters visited less than a month ago. Cecil walked through the gate, and saw two lonely graves off to the side. Walking over to them, he knelt down, and sighed.

“Nice of you to give your old home to The Barnes folks after you left.” Rosa said, looking down at the graves.

“I certainly wasn’t using it. I went into Bloodmoon Keep intending to die, why let the manor go to waste, when I could use it to repay them. They deserved so much more, I wish I could have given it to them.” Cecil said

“Well, if it’s any comfort, they lived comfortably for another few months before they died in their sleep.

“That’s good then.” He said. Standing up, he walked over to the front doors. What was once a fine wood door emblazoned with beautiful wood carvings was now wrecked and worn beyond recognition. The doors were once decorated with the Zarovich crest, a Raven symbol, the same symbol which appeared on Cecil’s shoulder when he first summoned Noire; and had a carving of a dragon going around the outside of the door, but over three centuries it had worn and faded, and was now just off color.

Strangely, however, the rest of the mansion was actually in pretty good shape, albeit covered in dust. While it looked to have been cleared out, likely after the Barnes died and  by townspeople looking for supplies, the furniture and decorations mostly remained intact, though faded and covered with dust, with cobwebs and mothballs everywhere. Many of Cecil’s artwork still hung around the manor, well preserved since Cecil knew a few tricks on art preservation.

“You think you can still paint this well?” Rosa asked, admiring some of the artwork.

“I may be rusty, but I did do some rough sketch work in my free time after Ravenloft. With some practice I could get back to it.”

Cecil and Rosa continued onward, now ending up in the studio. Much like the other artwork, most of it was well preserved and left undisturbed.

“So many unfinished pieces… If everything had worked out as planned I would have enjoyed doing artwork for King Ravon.” Cecil said, longingly.

“I always enjoyed watching you paint.” Rosa said

“When we hung out, when I would read, I’d sometimes just pretend to read the same part over and over, I’d just watch you go.” she said

“That much, huh?”

“You always put so much passion into it. Into everything, really.  I’ve always loved that about you.” She said, slightly flirtatiously.

“I actually destroyed one of my unfinished pieces. That day, when your father forbade me from seeing you again, I just felt all this rage.”

“Heh, wonder what he’d say if he saw us now.”

“He’d probably kill me, I promised him before I died I’d save you.” Cecil said, mourningly

“Oof. Yeah I don’t think I’d have been able to calm him down.”

“Your dad scared me more than Morlund, to be fair. I wonder  if he ever would have come to terms with us.”

“I didn’t make much progress the night of the siege with convincing him. Still, he gave his life for me to get to the church, even after everything, I guess he still had some love for me.”

“Of course, you were his daughter after all.”

“I guess. It didn’t feel like it sometimes. My mother died in childbirth, and every time he looked at me, I guess he just saw his wife’s killer. Me getting bullied and taking so long to stand up for myself didn’t help. And finally I refused to marry Jonovan, so he probably didn’t like that I was trying to be independent. That’s why I spent so much time here, I felt closer to you and your parents.”

“Wait, Jonovan? The guy who used to bully you? Why would your father want you to marry him?”

“Dad probably thought marrying me off to the mayor’s kid would get him favors or pull in the town, I don’t know.”

“Even though marrying into the Zarovich family would have had the same result?”

“You’d think, but I guess you being a vampire really threw him off, or he wanted me closer to control me or something, I don’t know.”

“Are you glad he died?”

“I…. no. I never thought about it. It’s been three hundred years since we died, and his soul passed on. I’ve never had the chance to talk to him. I guess you’re right. I didn’t agree with his reasoning for not letting us see each other, but deep down all he wanted was what was best for me.” Rosa said, looking down. “You were there when he died, right? What were his  last words?”

“How much he hated me, but then he gave me his sword. in his final moments you were the only thing that mattered to him, and to promise him I’d keep you safe.”

“I see. I guess he really did love me after all, huh?”

“It may not have felt like it, but you were his daughter. Belwyn is a cruel place, and if he truly hated you, I don’t think he would have tried to take care of you. It probably hurt him, but having to choose between your happiness and your wellbeing, he made what he thought was the right choice. But to show weakness, both out of his own pride as a warrior and trying to teach you strength, he hid it, and must have grown cold.”

“Heh, dad always was a fighter first before a father. Guess I can forgive him for that.”

Still though, you’re braver than me for standing up to him like that.” Cecil said, grinning slightly.

“True.” Rosa laughed. “Thanks Ceec, three hundred years and I just never bothered to think about him much, I just hated him all that time, and never really considered his point of view.”

Finally, the two ended up in Cecil’s old bedroom. The bed was neatly made, despite Cecil having left it messy when he left three hundred years ago. Maybe the Barnes had made it for him, anticipating his return.

“I remember that night we shared together, before the siege. That was the last happy night of my life.” Rosa said, sitting down on the bed.

“Is it selfish of me to wish we had just ran away to Ravonsburg that night?” Cecil asked, looking out the window. The image of the town still on fire from that day three centuries ago still burned fresh in his mind.

“Maybe. Morlund probably would have killed more of the town if you hadn’t shown up, but… I can’t help but wonder what if.”

Cecil didn’t respond, he just stared out the window, still remembering that day, three hundred years ago.

“They say that failure makes you stronger. But I don’t know. Did I ever learn from my mistakes?”

“Cecil, you can’t hate yourself forever. It was three hundred years ago.”

“And for the past three hundred years I’ve watched it on repeat. It’s burned into my mind now, and I can never erase it. I’ve tried to let go, believe me, but it’s like there’s something that won’t let me.”

“You have to keep trying, its what the Moon Lord wants.”

Cecil took another look out the window, he could almost hear the flames again. Without a word, he turned and walked out the door.

“I know what I need to do now.”

Cecil and Rosa took another walk down to the edge of town. Cecil took a deep breath, before turning back to the town.

“This place only exists now to torment me. Every moment it still stands, The Moon Lord laughs at me.”

“Mmm, makes me sad seeing it like this. It’s like a testament to all of Belwyn’s failures. Everything we’ve lost, all the hardship. It’s just so lifeless.” Rosa said, taking one last look at the town. Cecil stared for a moment, before walking into the center of the town. Looking around one more time, he stood, his magic building up around him.

“If nature is to take its course, if the cycle of rebirth is to continue, then the contagion must be dealt with. Vandelheim’s rotting corpse is just polluting this place. We just need to…” Cecil said, as red energy engulfed him.

“BURN IT DOWN!” he roared, as a massive wave of fire emitted from him. Rosa jumped a bit as the rotted wooden buildings around Cecil went up in flames. He looked around, watching the fire burn.

“I won’t let my past weigh me down anymore! My failures, my losses… All of it will burn!” He yelled again, as another wave of fire burst out from him, black wings burst from his back. As he walked out of town, he and Rosa stared as their childhood town went up in flames. All of it was to go. Rosa watched as her old home caught fire. All the memories she had made there. Not many of them good.

“What about the manor? Is that staying?” Rosa asked

“Do you want it to?” Cecil said, eyeing his old home

“Yeah. I had a lot of good memories there. With you, and your family. You guys took care of me when I felt like I didn’t have anyone. It can stay.”

“Mmm… As you wish.” Cecil said, as the two of them stood, just watching Vandelheim burn to the ground. There were no words, just the crackling of flame. But to Cecil’s anger, the church remained intact. Whether it was because of its distance from the town, its stone structure, or some other reason, the church just sat, untouched and bathed in darkness.

### Chapter Eleven: An Unexpected Reunion

*"Seeing Rosa again was... intoxicating. I've been alone for three hundred years, with only brief moments of companionship. And now, she's come back. The love of my life, so cruelly taken from me has been returned. And yet, it still felt hollow. The past three hundred years of torture have left me scarred and broken. Will I ever be whole again?" - Cecil Von Zarovich*

Walking through the woods, Rosa took a look around. She remembered all the time she and Cecil spent here as kids. Even ignoring their encounter with the vampire, she and Cecil would often trek into the woods, playing or exploring, every time they would explore a little bit further. It didn’t help that the Blackwoods were an ever changing thing, but somehow Cecil always knew how to navigate them.

The walk was mostly silent, save for the sound of fire and buildings collapsing, back in the direction of Vandelheim. At one point, Rosa stopped to look at an old tree that Cecil and her used to play near as kids. The tree had long since died, and the rope swing had rotted away, much like the rest of this accursed, dead land. Even before Belwyn was abandoned, the land had always been tainted with darkened leaves, and a blackened sky; but now, the land was just dead. A lifeless, colorless sky hung overhead, grey clouds sitting motionless in the sky. Even the moon was barely visible. Dead grass and trees surrounded the two, as they continued onward.

“Don’t suppose you want to burn all this down too, huh?” Rosa asked

“Wouldn’t work, would just char the trees, but they’d still stand. The Blackwoods have always been a monument to Belwyn’s death.” Cecil replied

“Damn.”

“Did you know, before Belwyn was darkened they used to have different colors? Like green most of the year and they turned red over the course of the year? They called it Autumn.”

“Really? I’m trying to visualize that, but I just can’t.”

“Yeah, the weather would change too. For half of the year it would be sunny for most of the day, and actually warm out.”

“Wow, that sounds nice actually.”

“What was it like, in that field for three hundred years? I’d have thought you’d get to see any of this there?” Cecil asked. Rosa stopped for a bit, and stared.

“Lonely. It was cold, and grey. I couldn’t feel anything since I was a ghost, but it still just felt cold. I’d occasionally get glimpses of you. What you were going through… what we both went through. Sometimes I felt like I’d go insane, but there was something keeping me whole. Deep down I knew, I had to be strong, I couldn’t let The Moon Lord win.”

“Then you’re stronger than me. I didn’t emerge from that coffin whole. Every time I watched the events of that night on repeat, I broke a little. But that one piece of me that remained, I wouldn’t let him take it from me.”

“Sure, but you’re also the one with a corporeal body.” Rosa said, eying Cecil slyly.

“True. Though some-” Cecil tried to say, when suddenly he sensed something nearby. Rosa stepped back and vanished, as Cecil scanned the forest around him. He noticed he was close to the old ruins of Bloodmoon Keep. He wasn’t surprised stray vampires would skulk around the old haunting grounds of Morlund.

In the blink of an eye, two vampires jumped out, intent on gutting Cecil before the fight even began. Within a moment, one of the vampires was bisected, the other one barely avoiding the attack. As he readied for another attack, Cecil dashed forward, slashing through his chest. As more vampires approached, Cecil charged to meet them in battle.

Cecil walked forth, the forces of evil dropping like flies before him. One would go to attack,two more would fall. None before him could withstand the Dragon’s wrath. Eventually, his path took him before Bloodmoon Keep, still in the same condition he had seen it during the convergence. Strangely though, the other vampires dared not approach. They seemed to angrily circle the ruins like sharks, yet none of them seemed interested in clearing the tree line.

“So uh, is there some sort of barrier or something keeping them back?” Sanguinar asked, appearing next to Cecil.

“Seems to be, I crossed over fine though.” Cecil replied

One of the vampires suddenly decided to cross the treeline, and was quickly shot with a massive red blast of energy. Cecil looked up to where the blast came from, and saw a large floating creature. As it landed, the rest of the vampires fled. The figure had large bat wings which retreated into his back. He wore a brown, tattered cloak which covered his clothing and head.

“Guess they know not to fuck with you, huh?” Sanguinar asked

“Indeed.”  the figure said, turning. Cecil recognized the voice, and stared as the figure removed his hood.

“DeMarkov?” Cecil asked, as DeMarkov’s face came into view, having not changed a bit in the three centuries since Cecil had last seen him.

“Pleased to see you again, Lord Cecil.” he said pleasantly.

“How… long have you been here?” he asked

“Since you left. Bloodmoon Keep has always been my home, and I dare not risk anything happen to you while you slept. That is, until you disappeared a year ago.”

I see, and have you been here… alone?”

“At first, but then some of the refugees from Vandelheim showed up seeking refuge. Naturally I took them in. In exchange for small amounts of blood to keep me alive, I acted as their guardian.”

“Are they still here?”

“Yes, about three dozen or so. Men, women, children; surviving all this time off magically conjured food, water, and the occasional wild animal. We established a small colony under Bloodmoon Keep, in the catacombs.”

“I see, that explains why I never saw any of your people during my time here over the past year.”

“You’ve been awake all this time, then? Where did you go? The people have been awaiting the return of their savior.”

“Ravenloft, only for a short time though, after that I returned here, to watch over the body of my  beloved, and to temporarily deal with the events of the convergence.”

“I see, we kept the crypt sealed during that time, no telling what could have happened.”

“Go back a bit, what do you mean savior?”

“To keep people entertained, I told them of your story. Of the Siege of Vandelheim, and how you slew Morlund, saving Vandelheim, and all of Belwyn from his evil.”

“I wish that were true. His dark master still lives, and will forever taint Belwyn until he is driven out… Whenever that happens.”

“I see. And the body of the young lady?”

“Stolen.” Cecil said, grieving. DeMarkov could tell it pained him to say it, but there was something else there. Was it rage, or determination?

“Oh my… I’m so sorry, milord.”

“Don’t be, not like I was using it, anyhow.” Rosa said, as she appeared in a flash of light.

“Lady Rosa!” DeMarkov gasped as she came into view.

“So you’re the one who helped Cecil out that one time. Glad we finally got to meet.

“Indeed.” he said, taking a bow.” Though I must admit, it is rather awkward, given my previous affiliations to Morlund…” DeMarkov said, ashamedly. Rosa looked at him for a moment, before smiling.

“Water under the bridge. Its been three hundred years, I don’t hold a grudge… most of the time.” She chuckled, looking at Cecil.

“I appreciate the kindness, milady. Please, you must join us for dinner, the people must meet their savior!” DeMarkov insisted, but Cecil turned away.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. The more time I waste, the more The Moon Lord grows in power.”

“And you intend to face him alone?”

“Yes. I have no choice.”

“I see. I can’t stop you then. Good luck, milord, and if all goes well, please, come visit.”

“Very well, goodbye, old friend.” Cecil said, putting his hand on DeMarkov’s shoulder, before departing.

As Bloodmoon Keep grew smaller in the distance, Rosa appeared again.

“So it’s true then, Old Moonie’s growing in power?” She asked

“Perhaps, but… knowing that I’m going to my death, DeMarkov’s human charges need hope. Seeing their ‘savior’ like this would crush that hope.” Cecil said, his eyes focused on the path ahead of him.

As Rosa faded out of sight, Cecil continued on, a slight sense of determination filling him, knowing his old friend (or something close to that) was still alive.

### Chapter Twelve: Lament of the Guilty

*"DeMarkov... that is someone I never thought I would align myself with. Not only was he a vampire, but Morlund's right hand man. I sometimes wonder if its true, that people can change if they really want to. But what happens when someone changes that much? Can their sins ever be forgiven? I don't know, but seeing DeMarkov, his new role as protector of Belwyn's humans makes me think... maybe." - Cecil Von Zarovich*

Continuing down the path heading west, Cecil’s mind could only focus on the looming battle ahead. His rage and adrenaline had gradually turned to anxiety, as he began pondering the implications of his death. For mortal souls, it was known to those who had some familiarity with the powers of death what happened to souls when they passed on: their souls would be washed and wiped clean of their previous lives in the River of Incarnation, as they gave way to new life. But what would happen to him, Cecil thought. It was obvious reincarnation and the afterlife had no place for a cursed, dark immortal like him, but did oblivion and erasure await, or something much darker? Would The Moon Lord claim his soul, and keep it as some sort of perverted trophy to be paraded in front of the rest of the souls of the damned? Or would he be recycled to create something evil, something unthinkable? For the first time in three centuries, Cecil felt fear. His usual cold and stoic demeanor now masked an overwhelming sense of dread, rather than unbridled power and rage.

However, his thoughts were cut short when he noticed an unfamiliar clearing in the trees ahead. As he picked up the pace, he emerged into a large, ancient abandoned town. Much like Vandelheim, ruined walls and broken abodes lay desolate and abandoned. Studying his surroundings, Cecil noticed that many of the buildings actually looked quite different from Vandelheim, taking on a much more utilitarian style. Stone walls surrounded the town, made up of similar stone houses and shops, all plain and blocky. The only part of the town that looked remotely decorative was a small lake in the center, and a circle of market stalls near a large fountain. Strangely, the town’s graveyard didn’t seem to have any evidence of a massacre like Vandelheim’s.

“Arglostahd…” Cecil said, still taking in his surroundings

“Vandelheim’s ‘sibling’ town, right?” Sanguinar asked, appearing on his shoulder

“Yeah, built around the same time, presided over by my uncle, Sergei.”

“Sure knew how to build a town, terrible sense of decoration though.”

“Indeed, Father and Strahd were the only ones who could appreciate art, which is why Vandelheim was built to look nice, rather than as a fortress.”

“Strange though that it's abandoned, if the place was attacked, then where’s all the bodies and graves? The people of Vandelheim practically had to build a second graveyard after the siege!”

“Indeed. I’m gonna take a look around, fly above and keep an eye out, I don’t like this.” Cecil ordered, as his sword formed in his hand.

Cecil looked around for a building still in decent condition. He first picked a large tavern looking building, albeit not warm and inviting like a tavern should be. Even before the ruin of the town, Cecil could tell this place was meant just to serve its purpose. Slowly walking through the ruins, he scanned his surroundings for any clues to the town’s history.

“Strange. No signs of a fight. Half of Vandelheim was burned to the ground in a single night, but this… this is age. This place fell apart on its own. But why did the people leave? Surely Uncle Sergei was smart enough to set up an interim government of some sort. This place shouldn’t have just fallen apart on its own, and Clan Bloodmoon would have been destroyed by the time he left for Ravenloft.” he said, kneeling down, examining the entire scene. Frustrated, he left.

Next, he tried out a smaller house-looking building. The roof had caved in, but there was still enough of an entrance to make use of. Cecil squeezed his way in and took a look around. The house was in much of the same condition as the tavern: in ruins, but no signs of a battle. Frustrated, Cecil slammed his fist into the wall, accidentally knocking out the support for another section of the ceiling. As it collapsed, he left in anger.

Standing in the center of town, he looked around one more time, and noticed one last building, in complete disrepair, but bigger than all the rest. Cecil approached it, and took a look inside. Surprisingly, it actually appeared to be  a church of some kind, albeit still maintaining the utilitarian style of the rest of the town and not as nicely decorated as the one in Vandelheim.

Knocking aside the debris blocking entrance, Cecil stepped into the center of the chapel. A slight feeling of unease washed over him, as the idea of churches had always made Cecil a little uncomfortable, given his nature. This discomfort was obviously amplified, given the last time he had ever set foot inside one. Still, he soldiered on. He looked around, looking for any signs of recent life, conflict, any sort of clue that could help him. If any building had anything to show him, this would be it. However, maybe nothing happened here, Cecil began to wonder. Maybe the place was simply abandoned, a plague or something, or the townspeople simply attempted to move westward, towards Castle Ravonsburg. However, Cecil did notice something. A large chunk of the wooden floor was off color,and less rotted than the rest. This could either be the sign of a repair job, or someone wanting to hide something. But Cecil knew, it was Belwyn: the land itself had something to hide, and it was always dark. Cecil tore into the floorboards, and ripped it out, and even he, a man who had survived war and tragedy innumerable couldn’t help but recoil at the sight under the floorboards. Cecil stared at what looked like hundreds of skeletons, all mangled and abused. It didn’t take much detective work to notice the damage to the neck on each corpse, unskilled and uncareful vampires often left permanent damage to their victims neck areas, a sign of a frenzied, rush feeding.

And then, the implications of what this meant began to set in. The graveyard dates stopped around 514, the year Cecil destroyed Morlund, the lack of any battle, all of it. It was clear that the remnants of Bloodmoon had been using Arglostahd as a blood farm, and had been tossing bodies into this macabre mass grave, perverting this once holy ground. Cecil’s horror grew when it set in that this was all his fault. The slow death of Vandelheim, the horror of Arglostahd, everything was his fault when he exiled himself from the world after he killed Morlund. If he had been awake to protect the people of the Blackwoods, none of this would have happened. If he had been there to rule Belwyn in his family’s absence, he could have saved so many people. But no, Cecil realized he had selfishly thrown away possibly hundreds of lives just so he could take the Belwyn’s longest nap. Cecil knelt down, staring at the hole in the floor. Hatred, sorrow, and disgust filled him, and he could barely hold it in anymore. A sickness began to rise in him, as he almost puked. He wanted nothing more to look away, but he just couldn’t, as if he subconsciously desired punishment, and this was it. To face yet another failure.

After a minute, he stood up and stumbled to the doorway. Leaning against the frame for a moment, he tried to breath in the fresh air, but the smell of the mass grave still lingered. He stumbled outside, and collapsed in the center of town, a quad of dead grass surrounded by ruined houses. Sitting for a moment, his fist began to clench, as he roared and punched the ground. Again and again, his fist slammed into the dirt. With each strike, his fist grew bloodier and bloodier, but he didn’t care. The dragon’s fire that burned in him demanded fuel, and the only thing he could feed it was his rage. All of the shame and sorrow he had felt had turned to unbridled and unrelenting wrath, and it was the only source of energy he had left.

After a few moments, he collected himself. He turned to stare back at the church. Even though he had failed these people, the least he could do was give them some sort of funeral. But as he stepped towards the church, he heard Sanguinar’s voice call out.

“Cecil, watch out man we’ve got company!”

As Cecil’s head shot up, the entire perimeter of the quad suddenly ignited with an unholy, dark fire. He began to hear a strange, disembodied chanting sound, as the silhouette of a large figure began to walk through the fire. Drawing his blade to him, he readied for combat as a massive knight, clad in black emerged. His greatsword had an almost red crystalline blade adorning it. His armor was adorned with various skull designs, and red tassels on his pauldrons. He stared down at Cecil, with his face, if he had one, was masked by a large and imposing horned helmet.

“Cecil Von Zarovich.” He called out, his voice had an almost demonic reverberation to it. “My master bids you come to Castle Krakensburg. Should you lay down your arms, you will encounter no resistance, should you surrender peacefully to the dark god, and he may grant you a merciful death.”

“And if I refuse? The Moon Lord hides behind emissaries and false forms, he is a coward, and has sent you to die in his place.”

“I have died before, and I will die again. As long as my master lives, I will never truly be destroyed, You however, are charged with crimes against the Abyss, and your sentence is execution and damnation.”

“Even if I do surrender, your master is a tyrant, and knows not mercy. I’ve chosen to die on my own two feet. If you’re here to kill me, then let’s get this over with.”

“Very well. I, The Red Death, chosen champion of the Moon Lord, shall take great pleasure in delivering your soul to his lordship!”

As the two warriors glared at each other, almost trying to stare the other down, the silence was almost deafening. Finally Cecil rushed forth, blade in hand as his two familiars emerged at his side. Immediately, Sanguinar flew above and began to rain magic blasts onto the Red Death. Noire leapt into the air, rushing forward with a large blade emerging from his back. Deflecting the wolf, The Red Death turned to meet Cecil head on. Blocking his slashes, The Death seemed to overpower Cecil almost immediately. Cecil knew he would have to fight on the backfoot, not letting his guard down even for a moment. Even when Cecil fought Morlund, he knew Morlund was a careless fighter, preferring massive and powerful swings which would leave him open. This new champion, though, knew how to fight. He had all the strength of Morlund, but was tempered, he knew when to strike and when to defend. He was dangerous. Noire tried to slash into him with blackened claws, but they couldn’t even pierce the Knight’s armor. As the wolf tried again, The Death slashed straight through Noire, bisecting him as he dissolved into shadows.

“So what now? Shit for brains is out of the fight for a while, we got any other ideas?” Sanguinar asked, rushing to Cecil’s side.

“We keep fighting. You try to distract him, I’ll see if I can force an opening.” Cecil replied, aiming his blade forward.

“Why do I get the feeling this plan is gonna end up hurting me a lot?” Sanguinar asked, to no reply as Cecil reengaged the knight.

Sanguinar sped forth, trying to fire more magic into the knight’s face, trying to get him as angry as possible. As the knight got more and more frustrated, he swung away at the bat, trying to slash him out of the air. However, right as Cecil went in for the kill, the knight slashed through Sanguinar, dragging his blade along the ground, and turned to impale Cecil through the left side of his abdomen. Cecil winced as he was lifted off the ground, the blade glowing with a sinister red light. Dropping his own sword, Cecil tried to claw at The Red Death’s neck, but was too far away and couldn’t reach. The Red Death slammed his blade onto the ground, stabbing through the dirt and deepening the wound.

“So falls the last of House Zarovich…” The knight said, in a cold, emotionless tone.

Cecil couldn’t even respond as pain seared through his body. But as his vision began to blur, his anger suddenly spiked for a moment. Black wings burst from his back, but not his usual vampiric wings. They were scaly, emitting smoke and shadows, and resembling a dragon. His body became wreathed with a cloak of blackened fire, as his rage overtook the entire town. The Red Death jumped back, studying the situation. As Cecil arose, he slowly limped towards the knight, purely driven by rage. However, The Red Death just stood there as he faded away, returning to the shadows. As he left, so too did Cecil’s fury, as his wings retreated into his back. As his vision faded again, he looked around at the hellfire engulfed town.

“What the hell did I...” he tried to say, as his body suddenly burned with agony, and he collapsed.”

### Chapter Thirteen: Dancing Close to the Fire

*"Can an undead die? Can something that has never known life and mortality ever find release? I've begun to ask myself that of late, knowing the impossible battle that lies ahead of me. It is said that those such as me can never find peace in death. Some roam the infinite void forever and alone, others just come back, forever cursed and bound to the mortal worlds. Being alone is my biggest fear, and I fear that may be what lies in store for me."*

*- Cecil Von Zarovich*

A massive fire roared in the center of town, towering above all around it. The crackling, however, was drowned out by the sounds of revelry. Singing, laughing, cheering, and merriment could be heard all throughout the town. Despite the potential danger, many of the townspeople had begun to dance right next to the fire, the warmth of the flame washing over their body. One night a year, the people of Vandelheim decided to burn away the troubles of their mind, and just have fun. They had just one day where they forgot their fears and sorrows and troubles. Just one day.

Cecil, however, didn’t feel right being so close to the fire. Vampires weren’t the biggest fan of such things. And besides, he never wanted to be the in the center of everyone’s attention. How could he, when he wasn’t even the center of his own world? That right belonged to one Rosa Crownlocke. Cecil watched on with a slight smile on his face as she stood right in the middle of everyone, dancing and having a great time. She had come far in her sixteen years of life. She had for the most part learned to ignore or fire back against the bullies of the town, and while still shy, she still knew how to have a good time during the ceremony. But now more than ever, Cecil had noticed how beautiful she had become. Over the years her short, messy hair had grown long, and seemed to accentuate her face, not hide it. Cecil stared, deep in thought, so deep that he hadn’t noticed Rosa actually had ran up to him trying to get his attention. He suddenly snapped back to reality to look up into her golden-hazel eyes.

“Hey, you sleeping with your eyes open now or what?” She asked, laughing. Cecil just looked confused for a second, as she held out her hand. “Come on, come dance with me!”

“I uh… don’t know how to.” Cecil replied

“Who cares, come on!” Rosa said, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. They walked next to the fire, and began to dance. Rosa seemed to know what she was doing, but Cecil kind of just stumbled around a bit, still not really sure what he was doing.

“Oh wow, yeah you were right.” Rosa giggled. Cecil looked at her defeatedly, as she smiled.

“Come on, you wanna go take a break from all this?” She asked, as he nodded. They both took off, walking into the woods, Rosa still holding his hand. They found a spot to sit down, up against a tree.

“You ever think the ceremony is a bit pandering? Like is more of a distraction that people use to ignore the stark reality of their own existence for a day?” Rosa asked

“Not really. People need hope, even in this hellscape. Knowing that everyone in town can all agree to just relax for a day is encouraging.”

“Fair enough. Guess I’m just wondering how long we can just ignore everything that’s wrong in Belwyn for before people start really getting angry.”

“If the ceremony does get cycled out, then we’ll find some other way to inspire them.”

“Heh, you keep occasionally bringing up ‘we’, there something you wanna tell me?” Rosa asked, giggling. Cecil panicked internally for a second, before responding.

“Nope.”

“‘Kay” she replied. Her heart sunk for a moment, as they sat for a moment.

“Speaking of the future, you ever wonder what you wanna do later in life?”

“Well… might be a bit silly, but I’ve always wanted to sing. I’m not good at it, but I still enjoy it all the same.

“I don’t think its silly. Its a cold land, people could use something to comfort them.”

“Yeah I don’t think I’m gonna be comforting anyone anytime soon.” Rosa laughed.

“Nonsense. You know what, I’ll make a deal with you. You practice your singing, I’ll learn how to dance.”

“I’m taking that deal just to see how absurdly wrong this goes.” She laughed.

“I’m serious, I wanna try something new.” Cecil said, as Rosa stared at him for a moment, they both walked back to town and into the light of the fire. Walking next to the fire, Cecil held out his hand for her, as she came in close, he began to dance with her close, slowly.

“Cecil, how are you doing this?”

“I realized its like sword fighting, you have to match your opposite, and its all about legwork.”

“Shit, I’m gonna have to learn how to sing now, aren’t I?”

“Yep.”

Together, the two continued to dance by the flame, as the night continued on.

As the world around them faded, Cecil shot awake to find snow falling around him, the dead sky still hanging over the world. The pain in his side remained, albeit less severe now. He was still a bit dazed from the events of the previous night. He noticed he had somehow ended up resting against a tree. He wasn’t sure how he had ended up there, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. What concerned him more was his sudden burst of power, and his newfound enemy. What was happening to him, and who was this mysterious “Red Death”? As he pondered these questions, he heard what sounded like a deep, restful breath next to him. He looked down to find Rosa’s spirit, appearing to sleep with her head resting on his shoulder. He stared down at her for a second, confused if she could even feel him in her ghostly form, or if ghosts could even sleep. Rather than get up, he rested his head back against the tree, watching as the snow fell around him, and onto the still burning embers of Arglostahd.

“You breath a lot in your sleep, you know that?” Rosa said, apparently having awoken.

“I think I do it more when I dream.” Cecil replied.

“Yeah? What were you dreaming about, if you don’t mind me asking.” she said. Cecil stared out into the forest, watching as the snow built up a thin layer on the ground and trees around them.

“Do you remember, the ceremony that we had, two years before the Siege?” he replied after a moment.

“I do. The one when you learned how to dance?”

“Yeah… I miss that. Those were good times.”

“Heh, yeah… me too.” she replied. The two sat there for a moment, not talking but just enjoying each other’s company. Suddenly, Cecil heard something shoot through the trees. As he shot to action, the pain began to sear through his side again. Rosa shot up to catch him before he fell. They both looked to see a pack of wolves, they stopped to look at Cecil for a second, before moving on. Cecil clutched his side in agony, as Rosa put her hands over his.

“Hey hey.. Its okay, he’s gone now. It’s just us.” She said, comforting him. Cecil slowly sat back down to rest against the tree. His eyes locked with her’s for a moment, as Cecil momentarily forgot about the pain. Even though she was little more than a ghost, she seemed so lifelike. Even after three hundred years, she was just as beautiful as the day he had lost her.

“How’re you feeling?” She asked

“I’ll live. I always do.” He said, smiling for just a moment.

“I’m worried, you usually recover from stuff like this pretty fast. Something’s wrong.”

“Bastard’s blade must’ve been enchanted or something. Of course The Moon Lord wouldn’t send a servant to kill me in a fair fight.” He said, as he winced in pain, grabbing at his side. Rosa pressed down on his hand. Even though he couldn’t feel it, it helped somehow. As she continued to try and treat the wound, she suddenly stopped, staring at the wound..

“Why did it have to be us?” She asked, not moving

“What do you mean?”

“All I wanted when I was younger was to be happy. To be with you. Why does it seem like the entire world was against us?”

“It was. The Moon Lord controls this entire plane of existence. He’s the only god here, the only one with any true power or authority. Everything that happens in his domain, he allows to happen.”

“But something as small as us… we’re just two people, Cecil.... How could anything in existence be so cruel? Something with so much power…. All it wants to do is make us miserable.”

“Because it isn’t small. The Moon Lord’s favorite pastime seems to be screwing over my family, but that isn’t it, but I’m only part of it. You’re pure, Rosa. Innocent, happy, kind, everything he hates. If he needs to go out of his way to make the life of someone like you miserable, then nothing would bring him more joy.”

“Guess we were perfect for each other, huh? Just two people Ol’ Moonie despises more than anything.”

“Guess so...”

Cecil and Rosa gave each other a brief look, black and red irises met golden-hazel eyes. Rosa wore a defeated, depressed look on her face, as the reality of just how fucked from the start she had been. Was her whole life and existence intended just to fuck with Cecil? Did The Moon Lord allow her to exist just so she and Cecil would fall in love, then be snatched from him at the last moment? Was she even her own person anymore?

Her hand slowly dropped from Cecil's wound. There was nothing she could do, even with the last shreds of power she had. All she could do was watch as Cecil clutched at his side in agony. She rested her hand on his, as Cecil'a head turned, coughing a bit of blood. She looked up, and noticed something was off. Cecil was... crying?

"Hey, you alright? Talk to me, Sweetie."

"I don't want to die." Cecil said, his voice cracking a slight bit. His breath was starting to get faster, as if he was panicking. "For the last year I've accepted that my end was coming, and even embraced it, but now... I don't know. Now that I know its coming, I'm afraid of it. Of what comes after."

"No matter what happens, we'll be together, remember that."

"Will we? My soul belongs to the Moon Lord, when I die, my soul is forfeit to him. It wouldn't be like him to just let my soul rest after I die, he has something planned for me."

Rosa didn't know what to say. There obviously wasn't anything she could say.

"I don't want to be strong anymore, Rosa. I don't want to fight. I just... want to feel something again." He said. Rosa sat down right next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I just want to be with you." He said, as the two stared off into the woods, Cecil allowing the fatigue to overtake him.

When he awoke, he noticed Rosa's projection must have faded away. As he stood up, his wound began to hurt again, still as much as when he received it. He stood still for a moment, before turning his head west. He stared for a moment, silently bracing himself for what lay ahead. He knew his death approached, and there was no way out. No party of heroes to face down a massive evil alongside, no family to support him in his darkest hour. Just him, the last scraps of his beloved left in existence, and his familiars. All he wanted was to turn around and leave all this behind. There was a time he could have stayed in Ravenloft, in the land his father had given his life to save. He would have found acceptance there, either due to his father’s name or company with the Children of the Spear. He could have had a fresh start. But there was no time to reminisce on what could have been, he knew the fate that awaited him, and there was no one to blame but himself.

Barely able to walk, his wound still hadn’t shown any signs of recovery. Still, he couldn’t let that stop him. He continued to soldier on, his hand clutched over his wound, sword in the other hand. He knew at any moment that “Red Death” could ambush him, if he was still alive.

As he walked, his perception of time seemed to skew. He couldn't tell if he had been walking for days, or only a few minutes. Had he accidentally passed the same tree again, or was he going insane? Given his history over the last year or so, that was pretty likely.

After what seemed like days, he stopped. He was at the edge of the Blackwoods, the farthest he had ever come on his own outside of Vandelheim. In another life, this would have been a happy moment for him, but every step he took just brought him closer to death. As he took a deep breath, he burst from the trees, ready to approach his family's castle. What he didn't expect to find, however, was a massive army. He stood on a small cliffside, overlooking the entire Ravonian Vale, with hundreds of thousands of shambling corpses, skeletons, and darkly dressed necromancers, corralling the army eastward.

"Uh... Cecil? What do we do here?" Sanguinar asked

"The only thing we can do. Fi-"

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there! First off, you are in no condition to fight! Second off, even if you were, you're not taking down an entire army!" he yelled as he flew next to Cecil’s head.

"I've done it before."

"Yes, when you were flanked by your father, a band of heroes, and your own army! And the second time was basically the same! That and uh... oh yeah, you weren't bleeding out your entire blood supply!!" Cecil stared for a second.

"You have a better idea?" he said weakly, kneeling down

"Yes! Literally anything else! Anything else would be better!"

"My destiny lies within that castle. I can't let anything slow me down"

"Fuck your destiny bullshit! You need to stop this suicide mission and find out how to beat that dark god dick!"

"Are you seriously asking me to kill a god? In this state?"

"No, but we need to run. We can't do this yet, you need to recover."

And where do I go for that?"

"South." Rosa said, as she quickly came into view

"South? Why?"

"I don't know, there's something there. It's like I can feel it, calling out to me with what little magic I have left."

"There's your better option, Cecil!"

"The... Haunted Wastes of Belwyn?" Cecil asked

"No one's ever returned from them, ever since the darkening of Belwyn." Rosa said

"Okay, either die to an army of dusty old bones, or maybe die in the wastes and we get to see what's there! The choice seems clear to me!" Sanguinar shouted. Cecil mulled over it for a moment, before turning around.

"Retreat back into the woods, let's avoid the army and see what we can find in the Wastes."

"Perfect! I can't wait!" Sanguinar cheered, slightly angrily.

"Weren't you the one advocating for the wastes?" Rosa asked

"Okay I know Cecil's going back and forth on this whole death thing, but I don't like it very much, especially when I'm still single!"

“Oh pick a fucking side, will you?” Rosa scolded, Sanguinar gave her a look before disappearing from view. Taking one last look at his family’s old castle, Cecil turned his back and limped back into the woods.

### Chapter Fourteen: Acheron

*"When I was a boy, my parents used to tell me stories of the Haunted Wastes. Stories of horrifying creatures and abominations against God. Of people who wanted but a glimpse of the land, to never return. Even from the name alone, I knew it was a place to be feared. Even today, my body still shutters ever so slightly at the thought of it. Perhaps its time to put all those nightmares so long ago to rest." - Cecil Von Zarovich*

As he continued to limp through the woods, the pain now seemed to burn through his mind. He could barely process his trip southwards through the Blackwoods. He could hear the faint rumbling of the army behind him, but this didn’t concern him. At the rate they were going when he last saw them, it would likely take them days before they caught up to him. But what truly constituted a day anymore? With the dead sky hanging over Belwyn, and Cecil’s degrading mental state, he truly wasn’t sure how long he had been travelling for. Time in Belwyn truly didn’t have a meaning anymore. With no wind blowing through the trees, the sky barely changing, and little to no wildlife anymore, it was as if time itself had died in the land.

A couple times while walking, Cecil would have to stop, lean up against a tree, and just wait for the pain to ease, even momentarily. But deep down, there was a part of him that seemed to thrive on the pain, not enjoy it, but just allow it, almost feeling like he deserved it deep down. It fueled his hatred, for Morlund, for The Moon Lord, and for himself. He knew he wasn’t trying to kill the Moon Lord anymore to avenge his family or for any moral, altruistic reason, he just hated him. He wanted to see the Moon Lord die in agony. To endure every torture he had dealt to others. To suffer like he had. He wanted to make the Moon Lord feel fear, for just one moment. All he could feel anymore was hatred, for everything

Finally, he reached what appeared to be this edge of The Blackwoods. However, he could not see far beyond the treeline, only what appeared to be large amounts of rocks. As he emerged, he looked up, seeing a large mountain range, as far as the eye could see on either side. As he stumbled forward, he knew he couldn’t climb the mountain the normal way, like humans did, as if the mountains were made to keep people out. He sighed, and braced for pain as two large bat wings shot from his back. He struggled to ascend to the top, each flap of his wings seemed to drain him, and just staying in the air was almost an insurmountable task. When he reached the top, he just allowed himself to collapse, and lay on the ground for a few moments. Dragging himself to his feet, he crawled over to the edge of the mountain, and gazed upon the so-called “Haunted Wastes” region of Belwyn he had always heard of. He was… disappointed, to say the least. A thick layer of fog covered the land, as an ocean of dust and sand and debris went for miles. He took a step off the cliff, and allowed his wings to help him glide down. As he touched the ground, he looked around, trying to find anything of significance nearby.

“So… Haunted Wastes, huh?” Rosa said, coming into view.

“This can’t be it, there has to be something here.” Cecil said, catching his breath.

“It's a big place, we’ll find something. I-I’m sure of it.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“I swear, there’s something here.”

Cecil tried to focus himself, looking around for anything of note. It had likely been decades since anyone last set foot in this region, any footsteps would likely have long been blown over. Eventually, he just decided to just pick a direction and walk, not knowing or caring where it would take him.

The air around him felt oddly hot and muggy, especially for Belwyn. In the Blackwoods, Cecil was used to the temperature being either mildly cold or freezing cold. Heat always felt weird to Cecil, so walking  in this dry, arid, and hot climate was a strange sensation for him, and it wasn’t one he enjoyed. He much less enjoyed the effect the dust and heat had on his open wound. It began to itch wildly, and bleed even more, and the dust could not have been helping.

As he walked, he couldn’t help but feel the ground slightly rumbling beneath him. It was faint at first, but the longer he walked, the more noticeable it became. Was this just something sand did? He paused a moment to catch his breath, when the rumbling suddenly grew in intensity.

Suddenly, a massive explosion burst in the distance, and Cecil heard a loud, guttural roar. From the fog emerged a massive black dragon, fire pouring from its maw. It scanned its surroundings, looking for the interloper who had entered its domain. Cecil quickly took cover behind a large piece of ruined stone.

“So, I think I know why people never come back from this place.” Sanguinar said

“If the head didn’t kill them, that monstrosity would.” Cecil replied

“So… you wanna head back and get killed by the skeleton army?”

“Wait, there’s still something here, probably where that dragon emerged from.” Cecil said, looking at the crater where the dragon had burst from. There appeared to be some sort of doorway sticking out of the hole, which had been filling up with sand.

“What’s the plan?”

“Distract the dragon, I’ll try and make it to the crater.”

“Why do all of your plans usually involve me getting injured and using myself as bait?”

“Because you’re annoying and everyone wants to punch you.” Cecil replied

“Dick.” Sanguinar said, as he flew out of cover

“Hey shitface, are your scales naturally like that or did you cover yourself in eyeliner as a fashion statement?” Sanguinar called out. The Dragon immediately turned and eyed Sanguinar angrily.

“Oh I’m sorry, did that hurt? I bet it hurts more when your dragon girl hooks up with the gold dragon with more money down the road!” He yelled out. The Dragon inhaled as its maw lit up with flame. It began to roar as Sanguinar was engulfed in flame.

Cecil stumbled a bit as he entered the doorway just as it filled up. Having to exert himself and run both in the heat and with his wound caused intense pain, but he couldn’t focus on that now. He found himself in what looked to be a strange tomb. Dark, sandstone walls surrounded him, engraved with strange markings. He approached a large staircase descending downwards. Strangely, the torches still burned brightly, even though this place clearly hadn’t had any visitors in centuries, and the dragon obviously wasn’t concerned with lighting them.

Stumbling down the stairs, Cecil looked around. A black void seemed to surround him, as the stairs seemed to hover over nothingness. Reaching the bottom, Cecil entered a large antechamber, with a large wall at the end of it. Rows of torches lined the floor, making a path to the wall. As he stumbled over, he saw that engraved on the wall was a mural, still well preserved. He stared at the whole scene for a moment, not quite understanding it, until he decided to study each part of the mural individually. He stumbled over to the left edge of the wall, trying to read it like a book.

The first scene depicted a tall looking figure, with longer hair and wicked looking armor, kneeling before a large skeleton with a circle behind him. Cecil didn’t get it at first, but after a moment he realized that circle could have been the moon. This must have been the Moon Lord. But who was the other figure, he wondered. Why did he look a little like Cecil? Cecil assumed it was just a coincidence.

The next scene, and the largest one on the wall depicted what looked like an army of figures, going up against a large dragon, painted with a sinister black color. Cecil was willing to guess this might be the same dragon that attacked him outside the tomb. In the sky, the moon hung overhead. Could this have been during the darkening of Belwyn? And was the long haired figure in the previous scene related to this? Seeing as King Garossan had been the one who helped drag Belwyn into darkness, he had to assume it must have been him, and this dragon could have just been a lackey of the Moon Lord, who just happened to still live today.

The third and final scene showed the long haired figure from the first scene, lying down as if dead on a funeral pyre, and the dragon behind him, still alive and roaring into the sky.

He felt he understood now. Garossan was the one who made an initial deal with the Moon Lord for power, and in return, must have been granted a dragon as a gift. He must have been buried here, with the Moon Lord’s gift still watching him.

As he studied the mural, Cecil suddenly began to smell something, as his hunger grew. He smelled…. blood. He wasn’t alone. He waited a moment, studying his newfound company, before turning to swing into them. His attacker parried the swing, before leaping backwards, as two more figures joined the fray. His attackers wore black assassin armor, adorned with an emblem of a dragon. They all leered at him in unison, each readying their blades.

“You trespass in the domain of the Black Dragon!” One of them yelled.

“Is this truly how you have spent your lives, all these centuries?” Cecil replied

“Time has no meaning to us, as long as our master is with us. Hail Lord Von Zarovich!”

“Zaro- wait a minute. Who is your master?” Cecil demanded, but to no reply. The assassins had re engaged their attack. Two of them approached from the left, while the third came from the right. Cecil knew to pick his first target wisely, engaging the two on the left would leave his flank open to the solo attacker, but trying to counter their plan would likely cause him to be overwhelmed. On top of that, he was in no state to fight off three clearly trained and coordinated assassins. He decided to play it defensively for now, dashing out of the way of the first assassin's attacks, forcing them to group up again. From the shadows, Noire emerged, and pounced one of the assassins. Cecil engaged the other two, one hand covering his wound and the other tightly clenching his sword. He wouldn’t allow them to overwhelm him, constantly on the backfoot and separating them long enough to get in a few attacks.

As one of the assassins went to attack Cecil, Sanguinar appeared, firing a bolt of red lightning at the attacker.

“You’re lucky I’m bothering to help after that dragonfire, that shit hurt!” Sanguinar yelled

“You're getting something out of this too, you know.” Cecil rebuked

“Yeah? And what would that be?”

“Your life, you said it yourself, I’m the only thing anchoring you to this world.”

“Damn it.”

Sanguinar began to chase off the assassin, as Cecil engaged the last one left. Even though he fought valiantly, Cecil knew he couldn’t keep this up for long. The pain in his side was growing, and his attacker was too fast. He would break Cecil’s guard soon. And the assassin knew this, as he rushed in, ready to kill. He began to rush around Cecil, attacking him from every possible angle. Cecil wasn’t going to be able to last long. FInally, Cecil was knocked off balance and felt the assassin’s blade slice through his side. Stumbling back, Cecil dropped to a knee as blood started to seep from his chest. As the assassin readied his blade for the kill, Cecil felt immense anger build up inside him. He refused to die here, in some light forsaken tomb dedicated to his mortal enemy.

As the assassin closed in, Cecil roared as he felt power form in his hand. He felt the blood pouring out of him began to shape, as he waved his hand out and called forth a spear made from his crystalized blood. It impaled the assassin through the head, as he fell to his knees, slightly twitching. Stumbling back to his feet, he looked angrily at the two other assassins. They both turned to engage him, but as they charged forth, Cecil shaped more of his blood, this time into daggers that flew and pierced one of the assassins, who dropped his blade. Cecil stabbed that one through the chest, and called more of his blood to crystalize around the last assassin’s leg. As the final assassin swung his blade wildly as Cecil approached, Cecil knocked it out of his hand, and grabbed his face.

“Tell me who your master is, before I tear you limb from limb!” He roared

“The Black Dragon is eternal! You cannot kill him!” The assassin said. He was trying to sound tough, but Cecil could feel the fear in his voice.

“You cannot-” He tried to say, before Cecil lunged for his throat. His fangs tore into the assassin’s neck, as he felt every drop of blood drain from his body, until Cecil’s vision went completely red.

When he came to, he was lying on the ground, unsure of how much time had passed. His wound felt a little better, and the cut on his chest the assassin had dealt to him had healed. However, he looked on the ground, noticing the assassin he hadn’t drained wasn’t all there. It looked like a wild animal had gotten to him. Limbs were missing, and there were drops of blood everywhere. He thought for a moment Noire had gotten to him, but he then realized: Noire wouldn’t do this, this was his own doing. But rather than feel anything, he just turned, and kept walking further into the tomb. He didn’t spare a thought for the trail of bodies in his wake. It was kill or be killed, and Cecil refused to die.

Cecil continued through the tomb, killing all of the Black Dragon Assassins that stood in his way. His blood had become a powerful weapon, and his silent rage was stronger. Something burned in him, and nothing was able to stand in his way.

Finally, he pushed open a large set of doors, and walked into a large, well lit antechamber. The sandstone walls had come to an end, and this entire chamber looked like something out of Ravenloft. Blackened cobblestone lined the walls and floor, with a long red carpet leading to a massive stone coffin. Cecil walked over to the coffin, and tried to push it open. But, no matter how much he tried, it wouldn’t open. He stepped backwards, readying his blade, to try and break the coffin open.

“Don’t bother trying, you’ll just embarrass yourself, Zarovich.” He heard a deep voice behind him say. It spoke with an accent similar to his own, albeit much older sounding.

He spun around to meet face to face with a shimmering ghostly figure. He had long white hair, pale skin, and purple eyes, that looked at Cecil in disapproval.

“So… this is what the Zarovich line has become?”

“You… you’re Garossan, are you not? You’re the bastard who dragged Belwyn into the darkness. All for your own personal gain? Look where all that power went, wasted!” Cecil replied, pointing his sword at the ghost, who seemed unfazed.

“Partially correct. I am the one who brought the darkness here. Garossan was a nice scapegoat, someone to take the fall for me. You can thank Ravon for that.”

“Garossan didn’t…? Who are you?”

“In my time, I was known as Acheron, The Black Dragon. But I suppose you’d make better use of my true name. I am King Acheron Von Zarovich.”

“So you’re the one the assassins follow? And that dragon outside?”

“A memory of me. An illusion to repel the unwanted and unworthy.”

“So you were the one who sold us out to The Moon Lord?”

“Don’t try to act righteous with me, boy. Are you not the one who would let the whole world burn to see your beloved for just one more day? The Zarovich clan were dregs, living on the streets. I had to show the world our supremacy. That we had the right to rule.”

“And after that?”

“I was given the power I so desperately craved. I became The Black Dragon. I saw my enemies burn beneath the shadow of my wings. Until I was betrayed. In my moment of weakness, Garossan struck, intending to take my power for himself.”

“And the rest of the Zarovich family?”

“Cursed. Immortal and cursed. Their fates entwined with that of The Moon Lord for all of time. They decided to use Garossan as a scapegoat, to protect their own family name. I had given them the world, and they spat in my face. They buried me here, to hide my existence. But I wasn’t done. My immortality goes far beyond my body. I am reborn.”

“As a ghost? Bound to your tomb? Not much of a rebirth.”

Acheron smiled evilly, looking at Cecil.

“No, this is merely a memory of me, left behind for the one worthy enough to make it this far.”

“Then you’ll have to wait. Belwyn’s a dying place, the last shreds of humanity are gone, and me with them. Your reincarnation has failed, another lie told you by a god of false promises.”

“Is that what you think? You, the first vampire born to House Zarovich in centuries. The so called ‘Dragon of Belwyn’, the one Daegon has sworn to protect for all these years, who bears my likeness and power. My successor has come, and stands before me now.”

Cecil stared at Acheron, a mixture of anger and confusion, fear and sorrow on his face.

“That’s… impossible! I’m nothing like you!”

“Yes… I suppose that’s true. Your human family raised you… differently. You were taught compassion and love and all those… things. Weakness. Yet now you stand, cold and broken and alone. The last light of your life is fading, and your death comes soon. Do you feel it, Cecil? The darkness setting in around you? Your powers awakening? I am returning, and with your death, my rebirth.”

“I won’t let that happen!”

“It’s not your choice, boy. What Daegon wants, Daegon gets. And he wants his chosen one. The darkness will come, and Belwyn is just the beginning.” Acheron said, as he faded away. Cecil sat for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. He fell to his knees, trying to breath in, processing what he had just learned. What he truly was. Something evil. As he just sat there, he heard another spirit come into view.

“Come to rub more salt in the wound?”

“No, just to give you some… fatherly advice.” He heard a familiar voice say. Cecil’s head shot up to meet the kindly brown eyes of his father.

“Dad?”

“Hello son, long time no see.” Vigo said, as Cecil stumbled to his feet. He tried to embrace his father, but just stumbled through him.

“Are you just another memory, or are you really here.” Cecil said, turning his head

“Pretend for a second that it doesn’t matter. It's real if you want it to be.” Vigo said as he turned around.

“Dad… is what he said true? About me… being Acheron? Am I destined to become him?”

“When gods are involved, you can’t rely on destiny. Your choices are your own now. What happens next, is up to you. But you have something now. Something you didn’t have before.”

“And that is?”

“Acheron made a fatal mistake. The Moon Lord has a protonymic incantorum, his true name weakens him. It weakens the dominion he holds over his kingdom.”

“Daegon.”

“Even saying the name in his kingdom hurts him. He’ll be coming for you now, but you have something you can fight him with.”

“Dad… What Acheron said about…. him protecting me. What did he mean? Daegon has done nothing but tear my life apart for his own amusement.”

“When Acheron said ‘your death is his rebirth’, he wasn’t being literal. You are the reincarnation of Acheron Von Zarovich, but you don’t have to be. You are Lord Cecil Von Zarovich, the Dragon of Belwyn; the son I raised. You are who you want to be, and nothing else can change that, besides you. Remember that. You can only become Acheron if you allow yourself to. Daegon knows this, he can’t allow you to die, or else he loses his most prized champion. He has done everything he can to rob you of everything Alexandra and I have taught you, and everything you love in an attempt to force you into the darkness, but he can only win if you allow him to.” Vigo said, as his image began to fade.

“Dad… I’m sorry. I wish I could have done more for you before the end.”Cecil said, facing his father for the last time.

“You were the best son we could have possibly asked for. And you always will be.” He said as he faded away.

### Chapter Fifteen: Mask of the Red Death

*"When I was young, I was led to believe that I was meant to save the world. To protect the weak and those who couldn't fight for themselves. But now I slowly realize, that I was never meant to save the world, but to destroy it. My birthright, my destiny: to bathe the world in sin and blood and darkness. I know now that I am the dark messiah, and that my whole life has been a lie, a cruel joke played by one of the oldest beings in the Planescape. And yet, I press on. Is it to subvert my true purpose, or to hasten its delivery?" - Cecil Von Zarovich*

Upon leaving the crypts, Cecil took a deep breath. He felt like he had been down there for months. Surprisingly, seeing his father again hadn’t filled him with his usual emptiness, but rather a newfound sense of determination. He knew now what he could do to spite Daegon. How to hurt him. To rob him of everything he wanted. He continued westward, ready to face down the army that awaited him. The pain in his side no longer bothered him, he felt the adrenaline flowing through him. As he walked, he heard Rosa’s spirit materialize beside him.

“Hey… how’re you feeling after that bombshell.”

“Surprisingly good, I know what Daegon wants, and I’m not letting him have it.

“That’s good. Nice to see you with some confidence.”

“Heh… thanks.”

The two walked together, silently enjoying the other’s company. The closer he came to the flatlands, the less humid the climate was.

As he arrived in the Flatlands, he was relieved to find the army had moved East to find him. The sky had grown darker, and the cold set in around him. As he stared ahead at Castle Krakensburg, he took another deep breath. He still wasn’t ready for the battle ahead, but he knew now that he couldn’t allow himself to fail. But as he walked forward, he heard a massive boot stomp behind him.

“So, you survived the Wastes, and you understand the gravity of my master’s need for you.” He heard the metallic, reverberating voice of The Red Death say from behind him. The wall of fire grew as Cecil turned around to face him.

“And you? You intend to kill me, against Daegon’s wishes?”

“Do not speak that name!” he roared, before regaining his composure. “My loyalty to my master outweighs any desires I may have, but if I must kill you then so be it.”

“And I will never surrender to the likes of you, or Daegon. I am who I am, not Acheron and no one else can change that.”

“Bold words, let’s see if you can back them up.” The Red Death said, as they both readied their blades. The two charged at each other, ready to kill. Cecil knew to avoid the blade this time, he wasn’t sure he could survive another hit like last time. He was more careful now, going for quick and precise strikes when he could. But The Red Death had changed his strategy too. He knew his master needed him alive, and went for large and brutal strikes, attempting to knock Cecil out. Eventually, The Red Death’s guard fell just long enough for Cecil to dive in, making a strike to his helmet. A loud clanging sound emitted as Cecil’s blade struck the helm, sending sparks flying. The helmet hit the ground with a thud. As Cecil turned around to face his enemy. But nothing in the world prepared him for what he saw.

Cecil stared up, into the singular eye of Morlund. A large chunk of his face was missing, the skull underneath perfectly visible. Rather than his usual rage filled scowl or shiteating grin, Morlund stared back with a stoic, stern look. Cecil stayed in combat stance, ready to engage, but Morlund just looked down at his helmet, and picked it up off the ground. He looked at it for a moment, before crushing it in his palm.

“I hated that thing. I always thought it would have been more fun if you knew it was me from the start.” Morlund said, his voice was raspy and monstrous, as if there was gravel in his throat.

“And I’m not surprised. Always figured you’d somehow come back, just to piss me off one more time”

“Tell me, do you feel hopeless, knowing that no matter how many times you try, you’ll never be able to kill me?”

“No. I’ll kill you as many times as I need to.”

“Of course you will. Its the only thing you have left.” Morlund said as he summoned a ball of black energy to his hand, crushing it. The Earth around Cecil began to rumble, as hundreds of thousands of skeletal and zombified hands burst from the dirt. The army had returned.

## Act Three: One Last Kiss

### Chapter Sixteen: The Battle of Krakensburg

*“Deathlord Morlund… how is it that one such as he could remain a part of my life I’ll never be able to cut out. During the beginning of my life, my parents taught me everything I thought I would need, yet Morlund molded me into who I am today. Where my family taught me to hold back, Morlund taught me to lose control. Where my parents taught me to forgive, Morlund taught me how to kill. Where my parents taught me love, Morlund taught me hatred. Ironic, that he may be the closest thing I have to a living family.” - Cecil Von Zarovich*

Motionless, Cecil stood ready as hundreds of thousands of undead soldiers rose from the earth around him. Within a moment he was surrounded, as rows upon rows of skeletons and zombies and various other undead creatures drew near. Barely paying them any mind, he and Morlund continued to stare each other down, Morlund with a more traditional grin on his face.

“Was this your plan all along, Morlund?” Cecil asked, his blade still at the ready

“Nah, that’s the real beauty of it all. You and I both never make plans. We’re warriors, kid. We don’t worry about minutiae or anything. We just… act.”

“If you’re about to explain to me why we’re the same, forget it. I’m not interested.”

“The same? Hah! God no. Maybe three hundred years ago I might’ve, something about how you’re after revenge and you’re no better than I am, but we’ve both moved past that point. We both know who we are now.”

“Then what’s the endgame here? After you kill me, what comes next?”

“Ahhh, you ain’t listening. I just told you I never had a plan, Ol’ Moonie handles that part. All I want is to kill you. To prove to the big guy that I’m his blessed chosen one, not you. Acheron was weak, and you’d just slow us down. And besides, I want you dead because you piss me off.”

“Then what’s Dagon’s plan?”

“To rise up and make all those surface world dwellers choke on their own blood. We’re the ones down here living in the Abyss, scraping by on whatever we can. Imagine it, An entire planet consumed by the Abyss. An entire planet under his rule. How could anyone resist, even you?” Morlund explained. He looked at Cecil for a second, who’s eyes darted away for a moment. “Ah that’s right, your dead girlfriend. Let me guess, an eternity without her would be an eternity of nothingness, right?”

“Don’t you dare talk about her, you murderous bastard!”

“You’re still on about that? It’s been three hundred years man, find something else to hate me for! God I can’t wait to kill you, you’ve become so boring!”

“I’ve been watching that same night on repeat for three centuries, you think I can just move on from that? Easy talk coming from you, the only thing you care about is how much pain, suffering, and death you can cause!”

“True, I’ll admit that I’m not the best when it comes to relationship advice, but even I can tell when someones obsessed. That’s what makes it so easy for The Moon Lord to get to you! He just works the Rosa angle until you flip out and start killing things!”

“Good to know we are different after all.”

“Heh, pretty soon we’ll be real different, one of us will be dead, and I’ll still be standing.”

Morlund charged back in to engage Cecil, ready to kill him once and for all. Their blades clashed quickly as they rushed past each other. The two of them quickly spun around, running in for another strike. Each clatter of their blades made a loud clanging sound as they struck. Each impact sent sparks flying in all directions. Morlund swung his blade in a wide arc in front of him, trying to bisect Cecil. Cecil dashed backwards in a cloud of red mist, retaliating with a blast of crimson energy. Morlund shrugged it off, and began charging in again. Cecil noticed that since the helm had come off, Morlund’s mannerisms seemed to return what he was used to, a large brute with a giant sword and no plan or forethought, just brute force and power overwhelming. Morlund swung his blade upwards, striking the ground and sending a cloud of dirt and dust outwards. Cecil dodged to the left and slashed into Morlund’s side, blood and sparks shooting out as his blade left its mark. Morlund turned to slam his blade downwards, grazing Cecil’s cheek as he dodged too late. The two stood there, bleeding and panting.They only took a second to rest before reengaging, intent on killing each other once and for all. The two started swinging into each other with a flurry of slashes, no rhyme or reason or grace, just wildly slashing hoping the other would die. Finally, the two of them stumbled backwards.

“So was this the entire point of the army? Just to try and intimidate me into standing down?”

“Moonie’s idea, not mine. I’d rather kill you and be done with you forever.”

“Do you? You seem to go back and forth between wanting to kill me and delivering me to your master.”

“If I can take you alive, then all the better. But I’m not as keen on keeping you alive as my master is. If you die, then so be it, all the better for me.”

“Admit it, you don’t give a shit about what Daegon wants, you just want to kill me and everything else you can get your hands on, is that it?”

“Maybe, depends on how I’m feeling when the time comes. However, now that you mention the army… Sic him, boys!” Morlund yelled as he jumped backwards, wings sprouting from his back as he flew above the chaos. Cecil was about to move in, when he noticed the army of undead around him begin to move in. Dozens of undead soldiers and the like hissed and eyed him down, as Sanguinar and Noire appeared to join the battle. Cecil formed a large whip out of red energy in his free hand, as Sanguinar soared into the air, raining down lightning onto foes that got too close to Cecil. Noire lunged forward, bringing down three of the attacking soldiers, as he swung his claws to conjure a massive dark claw, sending more soldiers back. Cecil continued to charge through the undead like a scythe cutting through grass, not wanting Morlund to live a moment longer. But as he grew closer and closer, the more overwhelmed he became by the undead, as he almost seemed to drown in them. As what seemed like ten of them continued to swing their rusted weapons down onto him, a massive rage filled him as he rose to his feet, a massive shockwave of red energy exploding from him as he roared. As he caught his breath, he heard a loud thud behind him.

“Ah told you kid, I’m Moonie’s divine chosen one. You’re not worth the effort.” Morlund said, his wings retreating into his back.

“Daegon’s using you, just like everyone else he’s propped up as his ‘chosen warrior’. Once he’s done with you, he’ll discard you like a used up rag.”

“When The Moon Lord’s done making those surface dwellers bleed, it won’t even be worth his time to throw me out. He’ll have created the perfect paradise, and we’ll all be living the dream!”

“Do you hear yourself? It’s Daegon, he spent 300 years torturing Rosa and I because he was bored! He’s an immortal, he’s got nothing but time, what makes you think he’ll give you any special treatment?”

“Is that what you call it?”

“Of course I do! I’m his divine chosen one after all! Why do you think he pines so hard for my allegiance when you’re right there? Because you’re nothing but a tool for him to use and then dispose of. You’re a means to an end, Morlund!”

“I…. Shut up! The Moon Lord has gifted me the strength of the damned gods! You think he’d waste that sort of power on just anyone?!”

“Yes.”

Enraged, Morlund charged at Cecil. Bringing his sword down repeatedly, he wildly slammed his blade into Cecil’s, who was just barely holding him back. Finally, Cecil managed to deflect one of the blows, parrying Morlund and leaving his guard open for just a moment. He plunged his sword deep into Morlund’s chest, hoping to put him down until his next resurrection. However, Morlund just backhanded Cecil across the face, causing him to stumble backwards. As Cecil began to draw his other sword, he turned and felt a searing pain tear through his chest, as Morlund’s sword impaled him. Cecil could barely gasp for air, as he felt all the blood he had in his body rush to his wound. A large amount of blood shot up Cecil’s throat as he coughed it up, sputtering it onto Morlund’s armor.

“Well looky there, guess I felt like killing ya!” Morlund gloated, lifting his blade into the air, causing Cecil to slide down the blade. He tried in vain to swing out at Morlund, getting in any last hits he could as he felt himself fading.

“Give my regards to Rosa for me, I seem to recall her going out pretty similarly.” Cecil heard Morlund say, as he blacked out.

### Chapter Seventeen: Letting Go

*“I try to hide it from everyone I meet, but I can’t hide it from myself. I can’t hide anything from myself. I miss the old days. Before Morlund and Daegon and everyone. I ask myself sometimes, why I was picked to bear Acheron’s curse, why I wasn’t allowed to live a normal life. In recent times, learning that everything in my life has been a lie, I truly understand now: ignorance is bliss.” - Cecil Von Zarovich*

As he opened his eyes, Cecil noticed he wasn’t on the battlefield anymore. Rather, he found himself back in the Vandelheim church, the events of that accursed night, three hundred years ago playing out once again in front of him.

Only this time, things were different. Everything happened as normal right up until when Morlund stabbed his sword through Cecil’s shoulder, pinning him to the wall. This time, Cecil pulled with all his might, roaring as he did so. As Morlund slowly approached Rosa’s injured body, Cecil managed to get the blade out a little. Every footstep Morlund took, Cecil’s heart continued to race faster. With every pull of the sword, Cecil’s anger grew.

“"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. But before he could tear into Rosa’s throat, he felt a massive blade stab through his chest. Cecil roared as he drove the greatsword deeper and deeper into Morlund’s chest, ignoring the searing pain and blood flowing from his open wound. Nothing mattered to him right now. Nothing mattered more than Rosa. He threw all of his weight into it, bringing Morlund down.

“Son of a… bitch. You’re gonna die for that you little….” Morlund coughed up, as he collapsed, dead. Cecil crawled over to Rosa, and embraced her, as the two held each other tight.

"This... isn't real. This isn't how it happened." Cecil said, watching from the side. The scene seemed to pause on Cecil and Rosa’s embrace. Rosa came into view beside him.

"You're right, it isn't. I could tell you to pretend for a moment that it is, though?" Rosa said, jokingly.

"No. I've lived with this for my entire life. The pain I've felt every day because of this, it's real to me.”

As he spoke, the vision rewinded back to the beginning. This time, everything played out like normal. Cecil couldn’t get the blade out in time, Morlund fed on Rosa, and stabbed her with her father’s blade, and Cecil embraced her dying body.

“Every day I’ve carried this. It all felt like it was yesterday. It may as well have been, every night I just see this on repeat.”

"Cecil... all I've wanted, what we've all wanted, was for you to move on and find peace."

"I wish I could move on but I can't. Every waking moment I relive this, like some sort of abominable purgatory. It never ends.”

Once again, the scene replayed itself, of Cecil entering the church, his fight with Morlund, and Rosa's death.

“But there's something else, something missing. I've studied this for three hundred years. Every second of it, analyzing each moment of it, trying to figure out what I did wrong. But only now do I know what it is.”

"Which is?"

"Every time I dwell on it, I think about what I could have done differently. And now I realized I couldn't have. Sure there were mistakes I made in the fight itself, but in the end, I just wasn't strong enough. I would have been destroyed by Morlund, had he not toyed with me and left me alive. But there's nothing I could have done, no attack or hidden strength against Morlund I could have used. Nothing. And ever since then, I've hated myself for not being strong enough and not realizing it. Not strong enough to save my parents, my uncle, anyone. But I never moved on, I never took steps to get stronger. Sure I gained new powers and improved, but it's like I've had this desire to be punished. I've held back all these years."

"And there it is. What I wanted you to learn after all these years. It was never your fault I died, Cecil. I made the choices that led me to my death. You didn't fail, Ceec, Morlund was just too strong. But now, things can be different. Now, you’ll find out what it is you need to do.

You’ve never backed down from anything in your life, even when you maybe should have. You go through the Abyss, knowing you could have lost everything at a moment’s notice. But that’s never stopped you from doing what you needed to do, and doing what was right.”

“Living in darkness tends to blind people to the truth. The answer I’ve been looking for all these years was right in front of me all along.

"And I'm glad you learned when you did... it's time for me to go."

"What... are you saying?" Cecil said, spinning around to look at Rosa

"The power left over from the forest soul... I've run out. I'm gonna fade away soon."

"Wait... please don't go." Cecil pleaded. Rosa smiled weakly as she started to tear up.

“ Cecil… you made me happy. More than anyone ever has. Thank you.”

“Rosa…. wait!”

"I don't want to go. I don't wanna go, Cecil." She said, as she faded away. Cecil didn't even have a chance to say goodbye, or tell her one last time that he loved her. Cecil fell to his knees and sat motionless, feeling emptiness well up inside him. A vast, cold darkness set in around him, colder than it always had been.

"Acheron... are you there, old one? Can you hear my voice?" Cecil said, looking down

“Always.” Cecil heard Acheron’s voice call out to him, all around him. There was a noticeable smug condescension in his voice, like he knew he had finally won. “Are you ready to let the darkness in, now that the last person who loved you is gone, swallowed into the void?” Cecil stared into the void, his last memory of Rosa being the only thing keeping him sane.

“Yes.” He said weakly.

“But didn’t you once tell me that…. You were ‘nothing like me’, and that you ‘wouldn’t allow my rebirth to happen’? Acheron said, almost laughing evilly.

“Yes.”

“I see… I suppose she was the only thing that truly separated us. With her gone, you’re all mine now, is that correct…?” Acheron hissed.

Cecil paused for a moment. He could hear his father’s voice echoing in his head. Everything he had taught him about who he was. He could hear his father almost begging him not to give into the darkness. Adding to that choir of voices was his mother, his uncle, his allies on the surface world. A single tear rolled down his face as he opened his mouth.

“Yes.”

Acheron cackled wickedly. He was enjoying every moment of Cecil’s submission. He had finally been broken.

“Good… “ Acheron’s voice called out, as he came into view. He stared down at Cecil, a wicked and evil smile plastered on his face. Cecil slowly looked up to face him.

“Go on then… say it once more!” Acheron hissed.

“I’m ready.” Cecil muttered.

“Very well, then embrace true, infinite darkness!” Acheron yelled, as he shifted into his dragon form. He inhaled, and breathed a mass of blackened flame onto Cecil, destroying the last of his consciousness. There was nothing left, only Acheron. Or so he thought. When the flame settled, Cecil still knelt, unmoving. He now looked up to Acheron.

“What…? How??” Acheron roared.

“I lied. I won’t allow myself to become you. I’m me, and no one can take that from me.”

“Then I shall take your soul by force!” Acheron yelled, exhaling another inferno of blackened fire, consuming Cecil. But even amidst the flames, Cecil still stood. Acheron roared, and readied a third breath. But before he could engulf him, Cecil’s hand slowly raised, and suddenly seemed to grip Acheron’s throat.

“No more, Acheron. I’m ending your bargain with Daegon. We all are.” He said, as his father appeared by his side.

“Your rebirth will never come to pass, old man. You have lost!” Vigo yelled, as Cecil dashed forth. As he reached Acheron he tore his claws into the dragon’s chest. As Acheron screamed, he saw the ghosts of all of his descendants begin to surround him.

“Now, my son!” Vigo yelled. Cecil did not hesitate, as he pulled out Acheron’s dark heart. Looking at it for a moment, he crushed it in his hand, and consumed the blood that ran from his hand.

“If the dragon is to return, I’m doing this my way…” Cecil said, as Acheron faded away into the void, screaming.

“For I… I am the dragon! I am… the prince of darkness! That... is my… vengeance!” Cecil roared, as the darkness around him faded away.

As Morlund stood with his sword in the air, letting Cecil slide a bit more down the sword, Cecil suddenly shot awake, and glared at Morlund.

“Aww, look who decided to wake up!” Morlund teased. But his smile vanished a bit when Cecil grabbed onto the blade and began to pull himself up.

“Oof, that looks like it hurts!” he teased. As Cecil continued to pull himself up, images burned in his mind. All of his memories with Rosa, with his family, the allies he had made along the way. Every one of these things gave him the strength to pull himself up. As he reached the top, he roared in anger as he dropped to the ground.

“Alrighty kid, ready for round… three…?” Morlund said, but slowed down as Cecil rose to his feet, his entire body became enveloped in a sinister red glow, as bits of smoke began to emit from him. He hunched over like a beast, glaring at Morlund through his messy matted hair which hid his face, only letting his hungering red eyes be seen.

“Huh, kid’s got a bit of power left, who knew?”

“You want… power? **I’ll show you real power!**” Cecil said, his voice gradually getting more guttural and monstrous. Morlund took a step back, slightly nervous.

“**I’m gonna show you… the dragon...**”

### Chapter Eighteen: Burn Everything in its Path

*“People fear the dark, but the dark itself isn’t what people should be scared of. It’s what hides itself in the dark. Those whispers that draw closer. What lurks in the shadows. That is what people should fear. I used to feel the same way, until learning: I am what lurks in dark shadows.” - Cecil Von Zarovich*

Morlund couldn’t help but stare in awe at what was in front of him. A mixture of shock, fear, and confusion was scrawled on his face. The massive shadow of the beast engulfed him, as it stared down at him in rage.

“What are you…?” He muttered

“**I… am the vengeance of all of all those you have slain! Every innocent life you have taken, every man, woman, and child you have slaughtered! I… am their rage, their avenger! I am… the Dragon!!**” Cecil roared out, only Cecil no longer stood as a vampire, but as a massive dragon towering over Morlund, adorned with grey and black scales, red tipped horns and wings, and large, beady, hungry red eyes.

“You’ve lost your mind…” Morlund uttered.

“**Have I, Morlund? Or have I always been like this? After all, you made me this way!**” Cecil growled. As Morlund readied his blade, Cecil exhaled a massive stream of red and black hellfire, completely consuming Morlund. After a moment, Cecil looked down to find bits and pieces of Morlund’s armor on the ground, a charred skeleton covered in ash barely identifiable. Cecil paused for a moment, before shooting his head up to the clouds, firing another massive stream of hellfire and filling the sky. The sky slowly turned a sickly crimson red, as the moon slowly descended into view, now a blood red color. Fire and blood began to rain from the sky, as the clouds turned to black smoke.

“**The Paleblood moon has begun! I am the vanguard of your destruction, Daegon!**” Cecil roared as he began to make his way towards Castle Krakensburg. Every one of his massive stomps shook the earth, crushing everything beneath his claws.

“Ahahah!!! Daegon’s gotta be shitting himself now!” Sanguinar yelled as he flew up next to Cecil. Cecil continued his approach towards the Moon Lord’s domain. All fear was gone now, only rage remained in its place.

As Cecil reached the drawbridge, he turned around to face down the remaining army. He took one look at them, before soaring into the air and raining down hellfire upon them, washing away the undead tide. He slammed back to the ground like a meteor and began to tear the drawbridge off the castle. With a single pull, the wooden bride tore off, as Cecil nonchalantly threw it to the side. Taking one last breath before he entered, he roared as he felt his dragon form fade away, as he dropped to the ground. Even as his draconic roar filled the air, you could still hear his voice underneath it, screaming.

“Yeah baby! That was awesome!” Sanguinar cheered, as Cecil took a look at his humanoid form he had returned to. Nothing seemed different, though the wounds he had received from Morlund had now closed and no longer pained him.

“Hey wait, why don’t we just use your dragon form to just tear the castle apart brick by brick. Then we just incinerate Daegon while he screams for mercy.” Sanguinar asked.

“Being in that form felt… corrupting. Acheron may be gone, but I can still feel his evil tugging at my soul.”

“Aw come on, what about all that talk your dad gave you, the ‘you are who you are’ spiel.”

“That won’t save me when Acheron’s corruption swallows my soul and vomits it into the void.”

“I guess. Though then again if we destroy the castle, where are we gonna live when we take back the throne?” Cecil didn’t respond, he just made his way into the opening into the castle he had made.

As he walked into the castle, the heat of the outside began to leave him. A cold wind seemed to sweep the castle’s interior. Cecil’s adrenaline rush had subsided, and emptiness washed over him. A horrifying reminder had set in. Sanguinar could feel it too.

“She’s gone, isn’t she? For good, this time?” asked the bat. Cecil didn’t respond, just sitting in silence.

“I’m sorry man. I know it felt good, just being able to talk to her, for a bit.”

“Those few fleeting moments when she was with me… it felt like she was alive again. I almost felt alive again too.” Cecil said, remaining motionless.

“I feel that. Keep your chin up, Cecil. Its almost over.” Sanguinar said, as he vanished again.

Cecil took a moment to look around, taking in the view of the seat of his family’s power in Belwyn. What little power they had all along, anyway. If only he had known back then just how little his family’s throne really meant.

The castle looked exactly how he remembered it. It was a Belwyn style building through and through. Blackened stone provided the foundation of the building. The great hall was massive, ceilings towering above, almost out of sight. Dark pillars help up the roof, with a long red carpet running along the floor, leading to the throne room. Massive stain glass windows decorated the walls, filtering the red moonlight shining through.

Cecil faced forward, ready to embrace his destiny. He walked to the throne room door, and prepared to push it open. Only, the door wouldn’t budge.  He tried again, harder this time, but still to no success.

“Uh… Cecil you okay?” Sanguinar asked

“Perhaps you were right. Daegon means to delay me.” Cecil said, as he backed up, examining the door. There were two pillars next to it, each with an orb shaped indentation. The door itself was massive, with carvings of dragons and ravens adorning it. He noticed that in between the two doors, the dragon appeared to be holding something, something empty. This must have been sealing the door shut. Cecil recognized this as an ancient locking mechanism, to have not one but two keys for a door. A special key that needed to be filled with blood, before it could be used.

“Even at the very end, Daegon still means to taunt me.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, open the door you coward!” Sanguinar bellowed, but to no reply.

“Does he mean to test me, or is he truly afraid?” Cecil thought to himself. He turned around and noticed other doors along the hall, leading to the east and west wings of the castle. He surmised that each of the wings held one of the ‘blood orbs’ he needed.

“Alright, time to kill some more of this asshole’s cronies. One last time.” Sanguinar said, as Cecil turned and descended into the castle’s western wing.

### Chapter Nineteen: Dancing With Devils

*“Revisiting my family’s castle felt strange, knowing  the long and bloody history on which it was founded. I used to think my family had overthrown Garrosan the Corruptor, and ruled the known world, always trying their best to make life better for their people. I know now this was only a half truth. My family is responsible for all of Belwyn’s troubles, and Acheron built our family’s legacy on a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. I refuse to be defined by that.” - Cecil Von Zarovich*

Cecil slowly walked through the castle’s broken and long abandoned corridors. It felt almost ominous, the last time he was here these halls were almost lively, filled with servants and nobles and guards. Now, only hollow statues and echoes remained. Cecil slowly dragged two of his fingers along the wall as he walked, disrupting the dust that had settled on the wall.  The stone felt coarse and rough, having not been maintained over the  past few centuries.

In another life this would have been his home, whether following his original plan to leave Belwyn with Rosa and elope, or to have come here more naturally, to live with the Zarovich family of his own volition. Fitting that it all would end here.

Eventually, Cecil reached a large set of double doors. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before pushing open the doors, walking into a massive banquet hall. The room was made of that same dark stone that built the rest of the rest of the castle, yet this room seemed to have a lot more color to it. An opulent, blue and gold rug covered most of the floor, with large banners depicting House Zarovich’s crest hung from the walls, and a gold chandelier gripped the ceiling. Cecil remembered the chandelier slightly, he remembered once during a dinner there his father would use magic to change the color of the flames and kept freaking out all the guests, much to Cecil’s amusement. Two long, wooden tables ran along the floor on either side of the room, meticulously placed there, in an attempt to capture perfect symmetry. Up a small staircase near the back wall was another long table, with a large throne in the center, meant for the royal Zarovich family. Cecil had always sat next to his parents at that table, as he was always a little anxious around the nobility, much preferring the grounded and interesting conversations of peasantry, rather than the boring gossip rich people loved. Once, food would have adorned the tables, feeding noble guests from all over Belwyn. Now, not a scrap could be found, long picked decomposed and picked away by scavengers and animals.

Above the banquet hall was a large balcony, connected through a set of two stairways. At the top was a massive ballroom, even bigger than the banquet hall. The grey marble floor was decorated with the same blue and gold pattern as the banquet hall’s rug in the center. Large pillars held up the ceiling, decorated with a similar grey marble texture. A harpsichord in the back corner of the room sat, open as if it had been played right before its abandonment.

Suddenly, as Cecil stood in the dance hall, the harpsichord began to play on its own. Cecil knew the tune it played, it was a popular one among guests of King Zarovich. All around him, ghostly apparitions began to dance, unaware of the ruined state of the dance hall. They danced in circles, on the very edge of the pattern, leaving the center of the room empty. A large spotlight suddenly shot into the center of the room. Cecil walked forward, just into the light, confused by what this all meant. Suddenly, two more ghostly apparitions appeared, but these ones he recognized. Two ghostly figures of Cecil and Rosa from his past appeared, dancing in the same way they had danced at the festival. Cecil walked forward, reaching out his hand, trying to rest his hand on Rosa. But he just passed right through.

“Rosa would have loved this…. To have had this whole hall to ourselves…” Cecil said sadly.

As the two apparitions were about to embrace though, they suddenly seemed to morph into a small orb of blueish energy, and fly up into the ceiling. Cecil tried to floor it with his eyes, but the ceiling was completely dark. Suddenly, Cecil dodged backwards as a massive suit of armor fell from the ceiling, onto its hands and knees. The armor looked strange, it had two soft blue veils flowing from its shoulderplates, and a blue sash tied around its waist. A red flaming pattern adorned it. The strangest part was its legs, at the knees they had been replaced with large blades. As Cecil readied himself, the armor stood up on its own, possessed by some dark force. A single red glowing eye could be seen through the visor. Despite its legs being replaced with blades, it seemed to stand perfectly, gracefully even. It seemed to eye Cecil for a moment, before leaping forward and slamming one of its blades on the ground, Cecil dodging by an inch. He immediately ducked as its other blade spun around. As it almost seemed to treat this fight like a dance, Cecil understood why these armors had literally earned the name “Dancing Armors”, Belwynian Dancing Armors to enemies of Belwyn. Cecil continued to dodge and parry its attacks as it flipped and danced around the room, swinging its blades into Cecil. All he needed was an opportunity to lay into the attack. Suddenly, the flame pattern began to glow, as one of its blades ignited. The armor leapt into the air,  swinging both of its blades downward. Cecil dodged just at the last moment, and swung into the armor, slicing off one of its legs. The armor lept backward, now standing on its hand. It suddenly jumped onto its remaining leg. Two swords shot from its wrists, above where the hands started. It began to spin around the room on its leg, moving like it was skating across ice. As it approached Cecil, it flipped to slam one blade down, then again to slam another blade, and then a third time to slam its leg blade. It flipped backwards, and readied for another assault.

As Cecil and the armor stared each other down, the flame pattern on the armor suddenly began to glow blue, as the flames on its blade extinguished. Suddenly, a cool blue air began to emit from the blades, as tiny ice crystals began to form. It flipped forward, trying to impale Cecil, and forced him to fight on the backfoot. Cecil continued to back away, waiting for just the right chance to strike. Amidst the armor’s attacks, Cecil noticed a split second where it slowed, and went in for the kill. The armor bounced backwards, one of its arms flying off in the process. But before one of its blades could ignite, Cecil rushed in and slashed through its chest, bisecting it. The armor twitched for just a moment, before deactivating.

After the armor died, the main door at the back of the dance hall opened, revealing a massive opera hall, completely abandoned and in ruins. But on the stage sat a stone pedestal, with a small glass orb. Taking it into his hands, Cecil looked at it for a moment, before making a small cut in his hand with his sword. The blood seemed to pass through the glass and fill the orb, turning it a dark crimson color. He looked at it for a moment, focusing on the swirling mass of blood contained within.

“One more… just one more, you goddamn bastard.”

### Chapter Twenty: The Lady of Thorns

*“Ironic, isn’t it? For all these years, I’ve remained alive, yet I feel completely dead inside. Rosa has been dead for three hundred years, yet her ghostly form still had so much life in her. But what really is life? Is it defined by the biological animation of one’s body, or the emotion and memories of one’s mind? As of late, I’ve become less sure of who truly died that day.” - Cecil Von Zarovich*

Stopping in the great hall quickly to deposit the first blood orb, Cecil stopped to observe the massive door that stood between him and his prey. He tried to focus and sense any sort of life force coming from the other side of the door. He took a deep breath when all he could feel one was one being on the other side. It would be just how he wanted it, him against Daegon, and nothing else to get in the way. That’s how it always had to end. He turned, and descended into the castle’s eastern wing.

Another long hallway stood before him, one filled with memories. While the west wing was used for entertaining guests and nobility, the eastern wing was always more for the family, something Cecil often took advantage of when the anxiety of talking to the nobility became too much. It provided a safe place for him to hide, surrounded by kindly faced maids and servants; mechanical knights that Cecil could let his guard down around, without fear of being judged; and the lone darkened stone that made up the castle. This was the only other place in Belwyn he had once felt safe.

Eventually Cecil reached the Eastern tower, dubbed the astrology tower by the court mage. Hundreds of years ago, when Belwyn’s sky still had some life in it, if you went above the clouds, you could still see faint signs of stars. Cecil had always loved seeing remnants of the world before The Moon Lord’s curse. When he was younger, he almost could forget about the troubles below, swearing for just a moment that everything was fine. The night that Rosa and he planned to run away, he came up with a short list of everything in Zarovich castle that he wanted to show her. The astrology tower was at the very top of that list. Even now, he felt slightly nostalgic revisiting it. But now, Belwyn’s sky had grown cold and grey, almost dead. Standing at the top of the tower now just felt depressing, surrounded by what felt like a cold and empty void. Once, at the top of this tower Cecil felt a small bit of hope, but now this spot proved the bleakest reminder of what Belwyn had become. Cecil could hardly bear it any longer, and swiftly departed from the tower.

The next room he entered was a massive indoor garden. Since Belwyn hadn’t seen sunlight in centuries,a combination of enchanted soil and water was required, with fire being the only light source the plants could draw from. As a result, this “greenhouse” was likely the brightest place in the castle, maybe even all of Belwyn. Cecil loved it here as a child, it always felt like his condition made it difficult for him to not live in darkness, but here he felt like he could finally live as men did. He would have loved to bring Rosa here when they ran away together. Maybe here she could finally follow her dreams of growing flowers, just to bring a small amount of beauty to Belwyn.

But strangely, the flowers had not wilted away. Rather, they looked like they had been well maintained over the centuries. Cecil theorized that some magic or otherworldly force had kept flowers growing in Vandelheim, but here it made no sense. Or was there something that had made its home here?

Cecil began to look around, suspicious and on the defensive, he drew his sword to him, as his familiars materialized next to him.

“So what do you think, Ceec? Squatter who made his or her home here and takes care of the flowers as a hobby, or just magic?” Sanguinar asked, scanning for any signs of movement.

“I don’t know, and I don’t like it.”  Cecil said, moving carefully, ready to strike at the first sign of danger. Noire walked forward with his nose to the ground, as he began to pick up a scent.He began to walk faster, tracking whatever had made its home here as Cecil and Sanguinar followed.

Eventually, the three reached a large bed of flowers. A sea of multicolored petals sat in front of them, every color imaginable covered the patch. And in the middle of it all, a woman lay sleeping. But she looked too familiar. Cecil grew instantly suspicious of the woman’ flowing red hair, pale skin, and blue clothes, perfectly resembling how Rosa looked in life. She awoke as Cecil approached, clearly drowsy.

“C-Cecil?” She asked. All he could do was stare. His smell for blood began to activate, and something seemed wrong. Or was it just anxiety? Could this really be her?

Cecil knelt down next to her, apprehensive, but he couldn’t resist the possibility that through some divine miracle she had returned. It had happened once already, maybe just once more moment with her couldn’t hurt.

“Rosa… you’re dead. How is this possible?”

“I… don’t know. I just… woke up here.”

“Listen, we need to get out of here. Can you walk?”

“I don’t… know. The Moon Lord, I think he’s planning something. He’s going to hurt us, Cecil.”

“I know, Rosa. He-”

“I don’t want him to hurt us again. Won’t you save me? My... dark messiah?” She said. At this, Cecil immediately shot a look at her, backing away and pointing his sword at her.

“Cecil…?” She said, a look of fear shooting across her face. Cecil stood fast, burning anger clearly visible on his face.

“What are you? Answer me!” Cecil roared. As the woman stared up at Cecil, her fear turned to a sinister smile as a large vine sprung up from under her, carrying her into the air as she sat on it like a throne, laughing. A cloud of dark energy enveloped her as two demonic wings shot from her back. As the woman dropped to the ground, the flowers around her turned to a blood red color. But she no longer looked like Rosa. Instead, she was a slender, dark haired woman, wearing revealing black clothing and piercing red eyes. She giggled cruelly as Cecil kept his composure.

“So, Daegon sees fit to once again kick me when I'm down. Was it his or your idea to fool me into beliving my beloved lived again?”

“Gotta admit, it worked for a little while, didn’t it?” The succubus said in a comforting voice, trying to lull Cecil into another false sense of security.

“Aww, does the Dark Messiah miss his little girlfriend? Come here, I don’t have any thorns, not for you at least.” She said, giving Cecil a wink. Cecil just stared at her, ready to kill.

“Such a shame, we could have had such fun together.” She said, as she ascended into the air, lightning emitting from one hand, and a long thorned black whip appearing in the other. Cecil began to rush after her, as Sanguinar flew back and began firing his own red lightning at her. Noire tried to pounce in the air to bring her down, but was beaten back with her whip. She slammed onto the ground and tried to whip Cecil, but her whip became wrapped around his sword. She tried to pull back, but couldn’t overpower him, and she stumbled towards him. She just barely dodged as  Cecil’s free hand became enveloped with dark energy, as he tried to swipe her with massive talons. She flew back, gently floating in the air. Sanguinar tried to slam into her, but she caught him by the neck.

“Hmm, let’s even the odds a bit. shall we?” She said, as she gently kissed Sanguinar. She released him, as he hovered in the air, and landed on her shoulder. A pink haze came over his eyes.

“Sanguinar, snap out of it!”

“Sorry Cecil, I gotta start thinkin about myself.”

“My my, it seems he’s made his choice. I know how to treat him right.” She said, as Sanguinar dived in, firing bolts of lightning at Cecil. Cecil dodged to the side, as Noire pounced on Sanguinar. Cecil rushed back in,  trying to cut down the Succubus, as she shot beams of lightning at Cecil. As Cecil’s dragon wings burst from his back, he rose into the air, slashing at the demon. She seemed to dance around his swings. As one looked like it was about to hit her, a massive bolt of lightning slammed into him, as Sanguinar had broken free of Noire’s paw. As Noire jumped to restrain him again, Sanguinar let loose a massive volley of lightning on the wolf, almost igniting him. Cecil rushed over to knock Sanguinar away, trying to restrain him.

“Listen to me, damn it! This isn’t you!”

“I’m done listening to you! I’m capable of so much more without you! All you do is sit on your ass and cry about your dead girlfriend, what about me? This is the most fun I’ve had in three hundred years!” Cecil suddenly felt a burst of anger, as he whacked Sanguinar in the head with the flat of his sword, sending him to the ground.

Suddenly, Cecil felt a massive thorned vine shoot from the ground and restrain him. He tried to struggle out of it, but to no avail. He looked up, as the Succubus looked at him for a moment, before leaning in for a kiss. As she tried to take control, Cecil felt a massive wave of pain overcome him, as he felt just what being mind controlled by a Succubus felt like. But he refused to give in. He had come so close to his goal, he wasn’t going to let this she-devil destroy all that.

“Hmmm, you’re stronger than I thought. I’ve broken kings and faithful men alike. Seems I’ll have to try harder with you.” She said sinisterly, as Cecil saw her change forms right in front of him, right back to her Rosa disguise.

“Let’s see if this does anything.” She said, as she went in for another kiss. Cecil’s body began to shut down, as he felt his mind retreat, letting her take control. But he still refused to give in. Rosa’s memory was the last thing he held onto. That night they had spent together was the happiest night of Cecil’s life, when there was nothing to worry about, just her. He just remembered feeling warm, she made him feel human. Feel whole. Finally, Cecil’s eyes opened, as one final burst of strength allowed him to get out of his bindings, as his hand shred its way through the Succubus’ chest. She coughed out blood, looking at the wound, beginning to fall. As the thorn withered and died, Cecil caught her.

“You may wear her face, but you’ll never have her fire. Rosa was twice as strong as you’ll ever be. And she kisses better, too.”

“I don’t mind losing… to someone as handsome as you. If only my kind were capable of love…. Farewell, my blackened angel. Soon, those beautiful dark eyes of yours will scream in pain.” She said, as she too withered away, along with the bed of flowers. As Cecil stood up, Sanguinar struggled to his feet.

“Ow… my fucking head. Fuck.” Sanguinar winced.

“Welcome back.” Cecil said, looking at him.

“Yeah yeah, I’m a sucker for a pretty face, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Apologize to Noire, you got him pretty good during all that.” Sanguinar turned to face Noire, before sighing.

“Sorry I shot a bunch of lightning at you and all that…” He said, halfheartedly. Noire just woofed walking back to Cecil’s side.

“But in all seriousness, sorry for what I said while I was under her control. That… was mean.”

“It’s fine, I get it. I guess it wasn’t fair for you to be bored while I stood guard over Vandelheim.”

“No, it’s not fine. I joke a lot, but we’ve spent centuries together, Ceec. We’re a team, damn it. I care about you, man.”

“Thanks. Never thought my best friend through all of this would be a bat I painted as practice.” Cecil chuckled.

“Anytime.” Sanguinar said, as he and Noire dissipated.

From the dirt, a single vine emerged, holding another glass orb. Cecil slashed his palm, and took the orb into his hand, allowing it to fill with his blood. He looked at it for a while, before holding it to his forehead and closing his eyes, a tear rolling down his face.

“With this, it all ends...”

### Chapter Twenty One: This War of Ours

*“One aspect of my life I don’t mention enough are my two companions through all of this. Sanguinar and Noire. A long time ago, I painted them as practice, and kept the paintings as a reference. The night before Morlund attacked, my father taught me a bit about my powers, and taught me to bring life to something as a familiar. I chose them. Through all of this, they’ve stood by my side, Sanguinar as a bit of cynical humor, and Noire as the family dog I never had. I’d have never made it as far as I have without them. It may seem strange, I hold them closer than friends, they’re the only thing I have left resembling family.” - Cecil Von Zarovich*

Upon walking into the great hall, Cecil immediately noticed something was wrong. He felt weaker, as if something in the hall was dampening his powers. Still, he couldn’t let anything slow him down. He walked up to the second pillar, and placed the blood orb within. But for some reason, nothing happened. The orbs sat, still filled with blood and not reacting to the pillars. The door loomed ahead, refusing entry.

“An anti magic field…? What’s your game, Daegon?” Cecil said to himself

“Not Ol’ Moonie, just me, Zarovich.” A familiar voice behind Cecil said. Cecil’s sword formed in his hand, as he slowly turned around.

“I should have known we’d meet one last time before the end.” Cecil said, as he and Morlund locked eyes. But Morlund didn’t have his typical shit-eating grin. He just looked at Cecil, determined and focused.

“Of course. You think I would just let you walk in there and die without one last little reunion with your ol’ Uncle Morlund.” he chuckled

“Can’t blame me for having a bit of hope.” Cecil said. Morlund laughed at this.

“Tell me something. During our battle in Bloodmoon Keep three hundred years ago, you told me that all this was because Anorius beat you in front of your entire clan and you wanted revenge. Is that still true?”

“A bit, but it's been a long time since then. We’ve both come a long way since then, fighting this little war of ours. At this point, the only reason I’m still fighting you is because neither of us are dead yet.”

“I thought it was just because we hate each other.”

“Hehe, aw Cecil, you’re hard to love, but you’re harder to hate.”

“I wish I could say the same, but no. I just hate you.” Cecil said, sending Morlund bursting into laughter.

“I know, kid. I know.”

“And the anti magic field? What’s your game, you trying to make me feel powerless before you try to kill me again.”

“Close, but not quite. This little war of ours… it’s getting tiring. The only way either of us is going to be able to move on is by killing the other. I figured this was the perfect way to do it. Nothing in our way. No familiars, no powers… No resurrections.” Morlund said, pointing to himself.

“Just the way you like it.”

“Just the way I like it.” Morlund said. As the two of them paused for a moment, Morlund briefly smiled.

Taking his greatsword into his hands, Cecil did the same. As usual, Morlund charged in first, but it wasn’t out of rage, but because it needed to be done.  He began with a downward strike, but was surprised when Cecil blocked it, holding him back. Seeing how far Cecil had come since their first battle, how strong he had become, Morlund couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride, in a twisted sort of way. Alexandra may have taught Cecil how to fight, but Morlund taught Cecil how to kill. Cecil parried the blow, swinging back and scratching Morlund’s armor. Morlund retaliated by swinging at Cecil’s head, as Cecil dodged under the swing. He retreated backwards, putting some space in between him and Morlund.

This time, Cecil went on the offensive. He went to slash at Morlund’s chest, cutting off a chunk of his armor. Morlund countered with a massive swing towards Cecil’s chest, just barely blocked by his blade. Morlund continued to approach with massive swings, each one almost knocking him down. Each swing just pounded into Cecil, pushing him back more and more, until Morlund let out one final swing with all his strength, knocking Cecil’s sword out of his hand and sending him stumbling back. Just as he regained his bearings, Morlund’s hand wrapped around his face, as he picked Cecil up and slammed him to the floor. As he raised his greatsword to impale Cecil, he quickly swept Morlund’s leg and tripped him, scrambling out of his grasp and crawling over to his sword. The two shot to their feet and reengaged. The two dashed at each other with incredible speed and force, sparks seeming to fly off their blades, as they continued to clash. One rush after the other, the two passing each other, hoping the other would fail to block the hit.

As Cecil stumbled from the force of Morlund’s rush, he quickly turned his head to see Morlund charging at him, meaning to stab him. He quickly jumped up onto a nearby pillar and jumped off to land on Morlund’s sword. He quickly spotted a chunk in Morlund’s armor missing, which he had cut off earlier. He leapt off and buried his sword into Morlund’s collarbone, causing immense pain. Still holding on, Cecil began to claw at Morlund’s face, drawing a large amount of blood and causing him to drop his blade. In a fit of rage, he threw Cecil to the ground. Cecil spotted Morlund’s sword next to him, and they both went for it. Cecil grabbed it, and turned to slash at Morlund, slicing right through his left glove, removing his hand. As Morlund stumbled back in pain, Cecil felt his own rage overtake him. His mind began to burn with images of his first fight with Morlund centuries ago, as he began furiously slashing at Morlund’s chest. One slash to the abdomen, another across the chest, and a third striking his collarbone again. Each one pushed him closer and closer to the wall, until he stumbled into it. With one last roar, Cecil plunged Morlund’s greatsword into his right shoulder, burying the blade into the wall and pinning Morlund in place.

Cecil stumbled back, catching his breath and regaining his senses. As he looked at Morlund,  his own shoulder scar began to pain him. Exhausted, he stumbled over and collapsed against the wall next to Morlund, and onto the floor. He heard Morlund laugh weakly, and slide down the wall to sit next to him, allowing the blade to pass through his arm and cut it off. The two sat there for a bit, catching their breath.

“Heh… how many times…. have we fought?” Morlund asked, still out of breath.

“I’ve lost count, we’ve never had an encounter that didn’t end in us coming to blows.” Cecil said, just looking ahead.

“Son of a bitch, you’re right…. That’s what I always liked about you, kid. You never gave up, even when you were just being a dumbass, you never gave up.”

“I guess… ever since that day, it’s just been kill or be killed. Whichever came first, I welcomed it.”

“Huh. Maybe you can kill Ol’ Moonie after all… Goodbye, kid… and never stop fighting.” Morlund said, as he took one last breath, and let death take him. Cecil took one last moment to catch his breath, before standing up and looking at Morlund. The catalyst for all of his pain, and the murderer of the one he loved most, was finally dead.

### Chapter Twenty Two: God Shattering Star

*“I know now what I have to do. After three hundred and nineteen years, I finally know what I was born to do. What I was raised to do. I’ve been trained for this fight since I was born. I was taught how to fight, how to think, and most importantly, how to decide what to fight for. My father knew what I was as soon as I was born, and spent every remaining day of his life ensuring I would not go down that dark path. And finally, I understand what I have to do. And yet… I don’t know if I have the strength to do it.”*

With Morlund’s death, the anti-magic field purveying the room dissipated. Cecil felt his powers flow back into him. At the same time, the door to the throne room began to shift and shudder, as the centuries old lock began to activate. The blood drained from the orbs, as the dragon carving adorning the door began to fill with blood. As the door seemed to flash for a moment, it quickly darkened again, before unlocking. Cecil wasted no time in approaching the door, but as he placed his hand upon the door, he couldn’t help but pause for a moment and sigh. Behind this door was the cause of the pain of Cecil’s entire family. Of Cecil’s pain. Of Rosa’s. Cecil couldn’t let fear cripple him, he had a job that must be done, He slammed open the towering doors, and entered the throne room.

The throne room was covered in a thick cloud of darkness, even blinding Cecil.The only thing that was visible was a shaft of moonlight, shining down upon the throne at the end of the room. Sitting on that throne, was Daegon himself, The Moon Lord, wearing the guise of one Anorius Crownlocke. Cecil approached, scowling at this.

“You think that form scares me, Daegon? I’ve seen what true darkness looks like, I’ve looked in the mirror. I’m not afraid of a dead old man.” Cecil yelled, angrily leering at Daegon. Daegon continued to sit in the throne, bored.

**“You think this form is for you? Ahh… if only. No, I know what it is you fear most, successor to Lord Acheron. No, this form is for another.”**

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

**“I have told many a lie, in my time, Lord Zarovich. Surely, you are aware of that…”**

“More than anyone else! You deceived and tortured my entire family! Your kingdom is built on deceit and treachery, and I shall take the highest pleasure in tearing it all down!!”

**“Indeed you will… However, there is one offer I made, so long ago, that I actually had the intention of fulfilling…”**

“And what would that be?”

**“A year ago, I seem to recall that I promised that if you joined me, and met me as an ally, I would return the soul of the one you loved most. The funny thing is….”** Daegon said, as he began to sit up.

**“I wasn’t lying!”** he roared. Suddenly, the set of torches closest to Cecil ignited, repelling a small area of the darkness. After a moment, the rest of the torches ignited, travelling towards the throne. Finally, a dark spot in front of the steps leading to the throne was lit up, revealing none other than Rosa, kneeling in front of the steps, her wrists bound by chains. Cecil felt his entire body tense up as he saw her. His stomach began to churn, as he could barely move. It was truly her, not a succubus pretending to be her like in the garden or a ghostly angel. She was exactly as she was three hundred years ago. As light flooded the throne room, she looked up, gazing at Cecil, her face plastered with fear, but a small tinge of hope was visible when she saw Cecil.

“C-Cecil?” She uttered weakly.

“Rosa?” Cecil asked, completely taken aback. Daegon began to laugh cruelly. As he passed through a dark spot in the room, he emerged wearing Morlund’s appearance, wearing his old armor before his time as the Red Death.

**“So close, and yet so far. You forget so easily, Lord Zarovich; my will is absolute here, and death answers to me. Her soul has been my domain for centuries. And I might say, our friend here has played her part beautifully….”** Daegon said, walking next to Rosa, stroking her hair as if to taunt Cecil.

“What… what are you talking about?!” Cecil demanded

**From the moment you were born, I began to think of all the ways that I could bring out the real you, that darkness within. At first, I thought dear, sweet Rosa would threaten that plan, that your touching little paramour would make things so much harder for me. But then, I began to explore other options…”**

“You mean Morlund…”

**“It took little effort to lead him to invade Vandelheim. It had been planted in him for decades, all it took was one small push, and the rest fell into place. After that, small visions of your beloved to keep you from moving on and finding peace, and a few curses on your family, and it was only a matter of time.”**

“What are you saying?”

**“You poor naive fool. I have been every voice inside your head, since you were born. Every dream you’ve had of being reunited with your beloved, every subconscious word of encouragement from your father. They have all led you to me.”**

“And Rosa’s ghost?”

**“As I said, I hold dominion here. My realm can’t be touched by the gods. I allowed her soul to appear to you to keep you going.”** As Daegon said this, a look of horror grew on Rosa’s face, realizing what she had done.

**“Smart girl, you realize now… it’s all thanks to you that Cecil stands before me now, in the heart of my power. The lamb, before the wolf.”** Daegon said, gently lifting her chin to meet his gaze. He looked at her for a second, before she scowled and pulled away.

“Is that what you think?” Cecil asked. Daegon turned back to face him.

“You think I’m here now by your own design? That the only reason I’m here is because I was led here? No, I’m here for myself. Rosa has nothing to do with this, leave her out of this.” Cecil said, stepping forward, approaching Daegon. Daegon began to laugh a bit.

**“Such bravery, little Lord Zarovich believes he’s in control. We shall see if it truly is fate that drives you.”** Daegon said, as he stepped into another dark spot in the room. He emerged as he did when he and Cecil dueled a year ago, a towering figure donning imposing metal armor, wielding a giant metal hammer. Cecil drew both of his swords, as Sanguinar and Noire immediately appeared at his side.

“Hey Cecil, now might be a good time for the dragon to come out and play.” Sanguinar said. Cecil carefully studied the room. The throne room was massive, but it was still too risky.

“Too dangerous, Rosa’s too close and I’m not risking her getting caught in the crossfire.” Cecil said. He felt a bit odd saying that. He was still slightly overcome with emotions, seeing her alive again. Through some miracle, whether it was a kindness from fate or a sick joke by Daegon, she had returned, and Cecil knew he had a second chance. He wasn’t going to fail this time. He wasn’t going to lose. He couldn’t allow himself to lose.

Within a moment, Daegon and Cecil were at each other’s throats. Daegon’s hammer swung with an ungodly force behind it, ready to grind Cecil’s bones to dust. Cecil knew he would have to every last bit of power he had to win. Even just dodging Daegon’s attacks took a lot of energy, having to dash out of the way of his massive hammer. Each sword attack took as much force as Cecil could swing with, in an attempt to even scratch Daegon’s armor. He wasn’t just fighting another dark force, he was fighting a god.

Jumping backwards after getting a few good swings into Daegon’s leg, Daegon turned to blast massive bolts of black lightning into Cecil. Cecil just barely held back the volley of lightning with his two blades, as Noire sprinted at Daegon, leaping into his chest with a massive blade forming on his back, slicing into Daegon like a buzzsaw. This gave Cecil just enough time to get out of the way of the lightning, and run back in to reengage. After a moment, Daegon grabbed Noire from off his chest and threw him at Sanguinar, knocking them both down to the ground. He swung down to crush Cecil, who just barely kept his hammer at bay.

**“Tell me, Lord Zarovich. If you had known that I was being honest, during our encounter in Fallen Avernus, if I had returned your beloved to you then and there, would you have joined me?”** Daegon asked. This caught Cecil off guard. He had never considered it, and now that he knew Daegon wasn’t lying then, it changed things. He almost relented in holding back Daegon, but he did not falter.

“I… yes. All I wanted was to be with her again. I would have let the world burn if it meant seeing her again. But I don’t regret my decision. To save my father, to free him from your curse. I don’t regret anything. For him, I’d have given my life a thousand times.”

**“Touching…”** Daegon said as Cecil pushed back his hammer. Leaping in, Cecil slashed across Daegon’s chest, leaving a massive gash in his armor.

But as he tried to jump off Daegon’s chest, Daegon grabbed Cecil put of the air, crushing him in his palm. Cecil felt a rush of electricity last through his body, as Daegon continued to crush him.

**“How does it feel, knowing Rosa is watching as you struggle in vain, delaying the inevitable? She will watch you die as you watched her.”** Daegon taunted, watching Cecil brace through the pain. Catching his breath, Cecil’s head fell, as his gaze turned to Rosa. She was breathing heavily, watching Cecil, clinging to the last bit of hope she had that he could win. He braced himself again, as his wings burst from his back as a shockwave of dark energy erupted from him. Taking his two blades, he slammed to the ground, swinging down as he descended, slicing through half of Daegon’s gauntlet.

“You want Acheron? Fine then, here’s your ‘dark messiah’!” Cecil yelled, as a dark, flame-like aura surrounded him. Daegon tried to crush Cecil with his hammer, but Cecil’s wing just blocked it, as Cecil flew in and began slashing furiously at Daegon. Once in the shoulder, another across the chest, two at once across the neck. As it seemed like he was going to finish Daegon off, Daegon regained his bearings and slammed his hammer into Cecil, sending him flying into one of the pillars. As he looked up, he saw Daegon rush towards him, trying to squash him like an insect, swinging madly at him. Cecil managed to dodge the first few swings, but Daegon’s hammer eventually clipped him, tripping him up and not allowing him to dodge his next swing, on Cecil’s right side. Cecil tried to block it, but felt the entire brunt of Daegon’s maul on his arm, feeling his entire arm flare in pain as he was struck, and was sent flying again. As Cecil tried to crawl to his feet, he found his arm had come completely numb, and would not move. He stumbled a bit getting up, as his arm limply swayed back and forth. It had been completely shattered. Cecil paid it barely any mind, he refused to give up now. The loss of his arm meant nothing.

Cecil rushed towards Daegon, dodging his swing, as he tried to slash through Daegon’s armor. But Cecil’s body was starting to break down. The damage Daegon had done was taking its toll. He could barely keep up with Daegon’s swings. Dodging under one, dodging to the side of another. But one last swing rammed into Cecil’s chest, with such force that it knocked him back, stumbling and rolling along the ground. His head began to pulse almost, as he coughed a bit of blood onto the ground. He noticed Daegon was slowly approaching him again. Suddenly, Noire and Sanguinar reengaged, Noire trying to restrain Daegon as Sanguinar blasted the dark god with lightning. Cecil could only get to his knees, as he tried to catch his breath. He suddenly noticed a hand cupping around his, as he turned his head to meet Rosa’s gaze, as she had crawled over to be with him.

“Rosa… I don’t know if I can do this. I-” Cecil tried to say, before Rosa moved her hands around Cecil’s neck, leaning in to kiss him.

“Listen to me. I know you can do this. You’re stronger than all of them. Morlund, Acheron, Daegon. You can beat him. And no matter what happens, if darkness does take over, then I’m not going anywhere, Cecil. I’ll be right here.” She said softly, as her hand fell to Cecil’s heart.

“I love you.” She said. Cecil smiled, and looked up at her.

“That’s all I needed to hear. I love you too.” he said

“Hey loverboy! You wanna hurry it up a little bit?” They heard Sanguinar yell, as Daegon started to overpower Noire. Cecil turned back to face Rosa.

“Go get ‘em, ‘Dragon King’.” Rosa said, teasingly. Cecil smiled, and shot to his feet. A sinister red aura began to surround him, as he began his approach.

“I’ll show you true darkness, Daegon. I’ll show you the true meaning of fear. Cecil said. He waved his remaining hand, as a massive dark portal opened behind Daegon. Right as Daegon broke free of Noire’s magic, Cecil rushed in and began to carve into his chest with a flurry of sword swings, pushing him back towards the portal. Daegon quickly regained his composure, and blasted Cecil back with a wave of energy. Cecil got back up, and threw his sword aside. Cecil charged back in to reengage, but right before he was in range of Daegon, the aura around him exploded in red light and smoke, as Cecil’s massive dragon form emerged from the smoke. As Daegon tried to swing his hammer, Cecil merely grabbed the head of the warhammer, crushing it in his palm, as he swung with his free hand, cutting a massive gash in Daegon’s armor with his claws. Daegon tried to punch Cecil in the face with all of his might, though Cecil was left unfazed by the blow, and just rammed Daegon with his horns. As he recovered, he quickly looked to see Cecil begin to exhale a massive stream of hellfire, engulfing Daegon. He felt the flames incinerate his armor, He knew his physical form couldn’t take much more of this. As the flames died down, Daegon didn’t have time to react as Cecil rushed forth, grabbing Daegon by the throat and jumping into the portal with him.

### Chapter Twenty Three: Dark Baptism

*"Rosa is... alive. I can't believe I'm saying that, but she's alive. And seeing her afraid like that... hurt me. I've long since driven fear from my mind. I had to, in order to beat Daegon. But he still found a way to hurt me. He brought her back to use her against me. And yet, this may be a blessing in disuuise after all. Seeing her alive, her belief in me... it gave me the strength I needed to win. And that will make what I have planned for Daegon so much sweeter." - Cecil Von Zarovich*

As Daegon came to, he looked around. All he could see around him was darkness. An impenetrable void, where shadows are born. Nothing to hear, or smell, there was nothing. He began to laugh.

**“And here we are, the heart of my power. Is this some sort of poetic justice that you’re attempting?”** Daegon asked. Before he could gleam a response, massive, red spectral hands burst from below, pulling him to his knees. From out of the shadows, Cecil emerged, back in his vampire form.

“No, old friend. This is something much worse.” He replied. There was a certain confidence in his voice, something Daegon found amusing. Did Cecil truly think he was in control here? Daegon thought.

**“You wish to bore me with pleasantries before my execution, Lord Zarovich? Please, be merciful and kill me already.”** Daegon said, sighing.

“You believe me dumb enough to attempt that? No... I knew I couldn't kill you, you would just come back, like you always have. Our last battle taught me that. So I came up with a better idea. I'm going to break you... Like you tried to break my father. Like you tried to break me."

**"You think to break... me? Here? In my own realm? You truly are a fool."**

"Ah, but you're forgetting something. I know your protonymic incantorum. I've beat you in your own domain. The shadows answer to me now..."

**"Hah, the little wyrmling thinks he can play god! Enough of this!"** Daegon called out, but nothing happened.

**"What... is this?"**

"What you fear most... losing your power." Cecil said, as he placed his hand upon Daegon’s helmet. He tore it off and threw it to the side, as the helm crumbled to dust. The only thing that lay under there was a skeletal head, nothing more.

**"You think you've won? Do you honestly thi-"**

"Yes. I have. And now comes the fun part. I'll show you what it was like. To relive my worst pain for so long. To feel every pain you have forced onto my family!"

**"Wh-"**

"I suffered for Three hundred years because of you! THREE! GODDAMN! CENTURIES! But that... pales in comparison to what I have planned. That is but a moment compared to how long you'll suffer for."

**"You-?"**

"You took... EVERYTHING FROM ME! My family! My humanity!! You took her away from me!” Cecil's voice began to break as he yelled. He paced side to side as he talked, almost taunting Daegon’s lack of mobility.

“And now, I'm taking back my life!"

**"You... you can't do this!!"**

"And you're going to stop me?"

**"Surely there is something you desire, mortals always have a price!"**

"You forget so easily? You made me immortal. And besides, you’ve already returned Rosa to me…. You’ve given me all I ever wanted.”

**"Cecil... please!"**

"Unfitting of the lord of darkness to feel fear, even in his final hour"

Daegon saw a smirk on Cecil's face as he started to be pulled down into the darkness.

**"Damn you Za-"**

But as Daegon tried to curse Cecil's name, more spectral hands grasped around the dark god, pulling him into the darkness. Daegon started to scream in terror as the abyss consumed him, but his voice just echoed in the black void. Daegon had lost, and would be imprisoned in his own realm, forever. As the screams continued, Cecil suddenly pressed his boot onto Daegon’s head.

“Silence. Your king demands it.” Cecil said, as he pressed down on Daegon, pushing the last of him into the void.  Cecil stood there for a moment, staring down to where Daegon had been, moments ago. He began to smile and laugh. At first, it was a slight chuckle, but it soon evolved to a a maniacal laugh. And then, it turned to tears. Cecil fell to his knees. After so much death, pain, and misery, he had finally done it. He had won. But there was a certain emptiness that came with his victory. A hollow and stark reminder that he was alone in celebrating his victory. His family was long dead, and not able to share in his victory. And he would never be the same as he was before the loss of Rosa. Cecil’s mind was far too broken to ever be fully repaired. But, his life was finally his. And with Rosa alive, it was time to begin healing.

Cecil emerged from the portal in the throne room, walking proudly and tall. His healing factor had fully repaired his arm, and he gave it a quick stretch. He looked on in joy as Rosa slowly climbed to her feet, her chains had disappeared. She looked over, and saw Cecil approaching her. Overjoyed, she began to run to him, wanting nothing more than to embrace her lover for the first time in centuries.

But before the two could reunite, her vision suddenly began to blur, as her legs gave out. Cecil rushed over to catch her before she could hit the ground. She began to feel as cold as ice, and coughed violently, a bit of blood coming up.

“Rosa?” Cecil asked, nervously. She could barely respond.

“She’s… dying.” Sanguinar said, landing next to the two of them.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Cecil demanded angrily, his eyes flaring up with rage.

“Daegon’s power was keeping her alive. Now that he’s gone…. One last screw you from him, in case you won, he’d still win.”

“We…. never seem to get things right, do we?” Rosa choked out, laughing a bit.

“Rosa hang on, just stay with me!” Cecil said, tears forming in his eyes.

“I’ve died before, this is nothing. At least I get to spend one more moment with you.” she said, resting her hand on Cecil’s chest.

“God damn it, don’t die on me!” Cecil said, holding her close. He began to cry, when he suddenly noticed the blood spatter from her cough, and he realized something. His curse had never been lifted, he was still immortal. His blood still had power. Power he could share.

“Rosa… if I gave you the choice to spend eternity with me, like me… would you?” Cecil asked. It took Rosa a moment to realize what he meant.

‘Yes. A thousand times yes!” She said. Cecil had basically just proposed to her again, just in a slightly different way than last time. Cecil summoned his blade to his hand, as he turned to the side. He slashed a large cut in his hand, clenching his fist to make the blood flow better.

“Rosa… this may feel a bit strange.” He said, bringing his hand closer to her. She took it, and looked up to him.

“Cecil, no matter what happens, whether this works or not… I love you. I always will.” She said, smiling. As she turned, she began to feed on Cecil’s hand, his blood began to rush through her. She began to cough even more violently, and grew pale as snow. She collapsed onto Cecil’s legs, her breathing quickening. She could hear Cecil calling out to her, as the world around her darkened.

### Chapter Twenty Four: For You

*“Even in defeat, Daegon still continues to rob me of my happiness. But was I doing this for Rosa’s happiness, or my own? All I’ve ever wanted was to be happy, and for us to be together again. I gave Rosa the choice I never had, between cursed immortality or the release of death like humanity. I hope her decision was her own. This… is how I truly defeat Daegon. To deny him this one last laugh. To save my beloved.” - Cecil Von Zarovich.*

Rosa slowly opened her eyes to a bright light, as a warm breeze swept through the air. She looked around to find herself on a bright, sunny field, the same one she and Cecil had always had their brief reunions on. Climbing to her feet, she looked around, confused. She felt a strange growth on her teeth, almost like fangs. The conversion had begun.

“I swear to god, I better not be dead again.” Rosa said, as she tried pinching herself.

“No, but you might as well be.” She heard a voice behind her say, an all too familiar voice.

“Sorry to disappoint, **dad**.” She said sharply, as she saw a ghostly image of her father appear.

“I gave my life protecting you from their kind, and this is how you repay me?” Anorius scolded.

“Maybe if you had actually cared about me in life then you’d know this has nothing to do with you! You’re dead, you’ve been dead for centuries! Fuck off!”

“I didn’t care? I fought and killed and died to make sure you had a life free of their curse! I cared more than any father ever had!”

“Oh yeah? Gee, I sure felt the love when you tried to marry me off to my childhood bully, rather than one of the only friends I had!” Rosa snapped back.

“What does that have to do with this?”

“This has everything to do with this! I wasn’t afraid like you were, as long as I was happy! But you… you never cared if I was happy, you were just scared of me having a life of my own.” Rosa yelled. Anorius took a moment to think.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I was afraid. After your mother died, I became so afraid of anything happening to you. I just became so cold,  I never stopped to think about what you were feeling, what your mother would have wanted for you.” Anorius said, without a hint of anger in his voice. He seemed genuine, like he had finally realized after all these years.

“I know dad, I know.”

“You’re an adult, you can make your own choices. I’m sorry it took me so long to let you. Before I go, I need to ask… your forgiveness....” Anorius said. Rosa froze for a moment. All her life, and in death, she had hated her father, but now… after so long, she had a chance to make things right.

“Dad… I forgive you. But I need you to know. I’m with Cecil now, and I’m happy.”

“As long as you’re happy, then I can’t stop you.” Anorius said, smiling as he faded away.

“I love you, dad.” She said, softly. She was alone now, sitting there, pondering on what had just happened.

Suddenly, the breeze began to pick up again.

“But he wasn’t the father you connected with more, was he?” a voice said, as another shimmering figure came into view. Rosa looked up to see Vigo’s dark, yet inviting eyes. His kind, fatherly face, smiling at her.

“Vigo!” Rosa exclaimed, as she ran and hugged him. She had always felt much closer to Vigo, confiding in him her own dislike for her father when she was younger. The more time she spent in Zarovich manor, the more she came to see Vigo and Alexandra like her own surrogate parents.

“I guess even death couldn’t stop what you and Cecil had.” Vigo said, laughing.

“You spat in the face of god, not letting him stop you from loving my son. That’s someone I’m proud to call my daughter in law.” Rosa blushed as he said this.

“What can I say, Cecil made me happy. We were made for each other. I wasn't going to let him fight for us alone.”

“Alexandra was overjoyed that night. She had always wanted Cecil to find someone who loved him for him. I’m glad it was you.” he said, as the two sat for a moment.

“Vigo, what happens now?” Rosa asked

“Now? Belwyn is in need of leadership, strong people to lead it in this uncertain hour. You and Cecil are strong enough. Lead your people well.”

“Oh dear lord I’m queen of Belwyn…” Rosa said, sighing. This was… probably the last thing she expected to hear.

“It’s simple, treat your people with the same love you showed my son, to everyone. Be the guiding hand that pushes them to be better. Show them they deserve happiness too.” Vigo said, placing his hand on Rosa’s shoulder.

“Right!” Rosa said, nodding.

“Make us proud. Oh, and one more thing.” Vigo said. His hand began to glow, as Rosa felt her fangs retract.

“Vampirism can be a scary thing. You don’t deserve that stress in your life. Be Cecil’s sun, the golden eyed light in his life.” He said. Rosa smiled, and embraced him one more time.

“Say hi to Alexandra for me?” Rosa asked. Vigo smiled, and nodded as he faded away. Rosa smiled, took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

As she awoke, Rosa’s eyes immediately met Cecil’s who was slightly surprised they remained their usual golden color, rather than red like his, but he didn't question that. She smiled, as she sat up.

“Hey.” Rosa said, sleepily.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Cecil asked, kneeling next to her, holding her up.

“Never better.” Rosa said.

“I guess we did it then.” Cecil said. Rosa didn’t  say anything, she just smiled. Nothing needed to be said, not at the moment, anyway. There would be plenty of time for that later. They had all the time in the world, now. The two sat there for a moment, before Cecil’s eyes darted to the windows. He noticed the sky was beginning to change to a dark blue color.

“Hey. Suns coming up, you wanna see your first sunrise? I’m telling you, I’ve seen it before, it's amazing.” Cecil said, there was a genuine child-like excitement in his voice, Rosa found it adorable.

“Sure.” Rosa said, giggling.

As Cecil got up, Rosa just kind of sat there,

“I um, haven’t really moved around much in a few centuries. Can you… help me out?” Rosa asked.

“Sure.” Cecil said, smiling. He scooped Rosa up into his arms, and began to carry her out of the castle. She rested her head on Cecil’s shoulder, just closing her eyes and smiling. As the two stepped outside, a cool, gentle breeze picked up. The land itself was beginning to heal. Cecil found a nice spot to sit down, as the two of them watched the sky begin to fill with light. The sun began to creep up over the horizon, turning the sky into a warm, orange and red ocean. Cecil was right, it was amazing. The most amazing thing Rosa had ever seen. Not a bad way to begin a new life.

*“For eighteen years, all I’ve wanted was to be happy. To be swept off my feet by my knight in shining armor, as we ride away from Vandelheim together. To be free from my father, the bullies that plagued my childhood, and from the Blackwoods. To take charge of our own lives. But that’s not how things turned out, were they? My knight turned out to be the vampiric dark lord of the Abyss, and we didn’t exactly ride away from Belwyn in the sunset like I had envisioned, but somehow things still worked out. Would I have changed anything, looking back? Sure, but… I’m still happy with how things turned out. I’m happy.” - Rosa Crownlocke Von Zarovich*

## Gallery

### Act One

CecilRosaThe Moon LordZiaKanaSaberXionUlixesLucienRowanRayvonLintheaMorlundCornellGharon
### Act Two

The Red DeathBlack Dragon Clan AssassinAcheron Von Zarovich
### Act Three

Lord Zarovich, The DestroyerBelwynian Dancing ArmorThe SuccubusThe Dragon King, Cecil Von ZarovichQueen Rosa CrownlockeCecil and Rosa