Crest of the Dark Master

					By Shane Stevens
	
				Chapter I:  "A Heroes' Welcome"


	It was raining.  The sky, now pitch black with thunderheads, was pouring down
the wrath of God himself onto the small valley of Transylvania below, the tiny village
of Morgovia but a tiny light compared to the darkness surrounding it.  Higher up, along
the crest of the valley, at the outermost rim lie the remains of the once powerful and
menacing Count Vlad Tepes Dracula, who had once again failed in his attempt to arouse
the forces of evil and squash the power of light underfoot like a worrisome bug.  And
like his grandfather before him, it was Simon Belmont that had stopped Vlad in his
tracks.  The rain pelted down in thick purplish-blue sheets, filling the air with the 
sound of crashing water and thunderbolts.  The dirt streets of Morgovia were now a 
virtual river of muck, broken branches and leaves and mud flowing downhill to the river
Valden below.  Most of the lights in the town were off, save for the church (which was
always open) and the local tavern, which was aptly named the 'Broken Goblet' because
the whole place was run down and in severe disrepair.  Inside there was much activity,
most of the townsmen were getting drunk and brawling.  In the farthest corner, one man
dressed in armor sat, nursing a mug of ale.

	"Now I know how grandfather must have felt", Simon Belmont said in a light
Romanian accent, taking a drink out of the dirty mug and wincing at the poor quality of
the liquor.  "These people aren't grateful for what I did.  They have always blamed
the Belmonts' for Draculas' appearance.  The fools.  It would serve them right if I did
nothing the next time Dracula came around."  Simon thought hard on those words.  "The
next time."  He only hoped that Dracula was finally vanquished, that the master of evil
was utterly destroyed this time.  Simons' grudge, like all the previous Belmonts' that
fought Dracula before him, was personal.  Although what Simon had endured was far beyond
that of any prior Belmont-Dracula had slain his father and brother, leaving his mother
a widow and Simon filled with revenge.  Dracula had hoped to end the Belmont bloodline
by killing his father Gerard, but Simon escaped and honed his skills in secret until
he was ready.  He looked down at his whip, the only thing he had left of his fathers',
their family heirloom.  He frowned.  He did not feel good about defeating Dracula, he
had expected so much to change, for people to accept him and to apologize for the years
of distrust cast upon the Belmont family by the people of Transylvania.  He wanted to
be a hero-but these people weren't appreciative, these people didn't pat him on the
back and say 'Good job!'.  It was as if they expected it of him and that he should just 
disappear into thin air until the next time a cataclysm occurs and then jump out of
nowhere and defeat the evil again.  Simon felt unappreciated.  Worse, he was drunk,
and being so was not thinking very kindly of the same townspeople that chased his 
family from Morgovia all those years ago.  

	He could hear parts of what the villagers were saying, mostly about him and 
wondering why he was still there.  Simon was alone-he had no family, his mother died
a few years ago from an illness she had since his father was killed.  Gerard was
an exception to the Belmonts, he didn't want to wage any wars against evil-Simon 
appreciated his simple ways and eagerness to have peace.  The town never knew they
were even Belmonts until that fateful night when Dracula attacked the town and Gerard
was forced to take up the whip and defend his family.  After that, the mother and
child were exiled deep into the forest where the old Belmont mansion still stood.
Simon hated them for that, for their cruelty.  But worse, he hated that his fate
was decided for him, that he was destined to battle the dark one himself.  "Now
I'm depressed" he thought, drinking again from the foul mug and wiping his mouth
with the back of his hand.  A couple of the more brawny farmers stood up from the counter
and walked over to him, their faces full of scorn.  He looked up at them, anger in his
eyes as well.  "Why are you still here, Belmont?  You have done your deed.  Why don't you
leave us in peace?" one of them said, pointing at the door and the other gesturing for him
to leave.  "I am not some slave that comes out to do your peoples' bidding and then disappears
when unwanted!" Simon shouted, knocking his drink over and standing up, fire in his eyes.
"So much for the heroes' welcome!" he spat, walking towards the door.  A man shouted after him
"No one asked you to destroy Dracula!  He'll only come back again and do us more harm, as
he has always done before!  We pay the price for what you Belmonts' do!!"  Another man added
"Leave us!  We don't want your help!" and Simon turned around and said "I'll remember you 
said that" and pursed his lips and staggered out, slamming the door behind him.  He walked a few 
steps, his boots burying into the mud and forcing him to lose balance. He staggered backwards and 
fell against the tavern wall, where he rested for awhile thinking about his life and how Dracula 
had ruined it, had turned people against his family, had taken away his family.  He wished he 
was sure Dracula was finally finished, he wanted him dead forever.  But he wasn't sure.
"God I wish I was sure!" he shouted in the rain, barely audible through the crash of water to
the earth.    

	Simon swept back his dark brown hair, wet from the rain.  He barely noticed as a woman
passed by the tavern and quickly opened a door to her home and entered, slamming it behind her.
"These people are still afraid-afraid of what Dracula can do.  I have to make sure he doesn't
come back-ever!" he decided, the alcohol clouding his judgement as he resigned to climb the craggy valley
and get to the ruins of Castle Dracula to make sure that the body of Vlad would never be resurrected again.

	A burly man peered out the window of the tavern with a grimace on his face.  "Good, he's
finally leaving.  He's as much trouble as Count Vlad was."  A few men nodded in agreement as he
approached the bartender, who poured the man another drink.  "So, Silnus, what say you?  Am I right?
Isn't he and his whole family nothin' but trouble?" the man said, taking the mug in his large hand
and draining it of the contents.  "I dunno..  I s'pose, I guess.  I'll say one thing for him, he
is pretty brave standin' against Dracula all by his lonesome" Silnus said, wiping the ale from the
counter where the man had spilled.  The door opened and then was shut quickly.  "Are you joking?  That isn't 
bravery, it is foolishness, pure foolishness!  If them Belmonts' hadn't started messin' with Dracula, mebbe 
he wouldn't have been so hard on us villages" the man said.  "Can you be that stupid, Onric?" a voice
said, coming from the entrance to the tavern.  Onric turned his head around, angry.  "What was that?" he
asked, finally placing his eyes on a beautiful woman.  "You heard me clearly, Onric.  If it wasn't
for the Belmonts', none of us would be alive this night-though it wouldn't be much of a loss considering
the company this village keeps these days" she said, her brows knit together.  "Oh ho ho, Anya.  And how
is it you know so much about things, burying your head in books all day, never seeing what life is
really about!" Onric said, a smile forming on his bearded face.  "Books are for learning, Onric-but
you wouldn't know about that, now would you?"  "Why you little-" Onric began, but was silenced by Silnus,
who slammed his fist down on the table.  Everyone was surprised-it was a rare day that Silnus showed his
temper.  "Stop this!  It is pointless, yes?  What's done is done, I says.  I think the lad is brave, and
that's that!  Now, what can I do for ya, Anya dear?" he asked, smiling at her.  She walked up to the 
counter and shyed away from Onric like he was diseased.  He was going to say something, but Silnus
gave him a look of warning and he turned his eyes down to his mug, which was already refilled.  
"I have a favor to ask of you, Silnus.  I have been reading.." Onric managed to fit in "That's
a given".  She started from where he interrupted, giving him a dirty look.  "From our book of
village history, and it seems like every 100 years on the day, Dracula rises to stalk again."  Onric
laughed.  "Smart, very smart, girl.  It took you a book to find out what the village has known for
years!"  Silnus started to turn red, but soon regained his composure and took Onrics' drink away.
"You'll get this back when you be decidin' not to bother into other peoples' conversations!" he said with
a stare.  Onric nodded and took the mug from Silnus and stalked away to a far corner, talking with some
of his friends.  "As Onric said so poorly, it is common knowledge-but-look at the facts, Silnus.  Dracula
rose not one year later.  Do you realize what this means?" she said staring at him, concern in her eyes.
Sulin shrugged.  "Not really, Anya dear.  I'm just a bartender, not much of a thinker."  Anya shook
her head.  "Listen, Silnus.  If he rose after 1 year of defeat, that means he may be too strong to
stop for any length of time anymore" she said, her hands holding the leatherbound book in front of her.
"Or, it could mean that our latest Belmont isn't as good as his grandpa was!" Onric shouted from the back,
his friends nodding in agreement.  Anya turned to him and winced.  "I'd like to see you face Dracula
and 'not' drop dead with fright!  You are just a coward like everyone else in this village that have let
the Belmonts' save you time and again and did nothing!" she shouted, storming from the tavern and
into the rain, leaving the door open behind her.  Silnus hurried to the door and pushed it shut, the gusts
of wind making it difficult.  "Now see what you gone and did with your big mouth,  Onric!  I told you ta
shut it, and there you go mouthin' off again.  That's enough for you-I'm not servin' you or your friends
no more drinks tonight!"  Onrics' friends turned to Onric, angry.  Onric sighed.

	Simon held the rock unsteadily as he clung from the jagged cliff near mount Dracul.  He briefly looked
down and saw pebbles bouncing off into the darkness.  He was losing his grip from the rain, which made the rocks
even more slippery than they usually were.  "Maybe I should have waited until morning" he thought, taking his whip
out in his right hand and flinging it at a nearby tree branch.  He felt it contact and bounce back.  "Well, now I
know how useful I am drunk" he grimaced, trying again.  It bounced away again.  His left hand was slipping faster now
from his attempts.  He tried to get a foothold but the rocks were just too wet, his boots were caked with mud and
kept sliding from the perches.  "Dammit!  Concentrate" he thought, swinging again.  He could feel it attach to 
something as his left hand slipped from the rock, and he grasped the whip in both hands and swung to the right,
approaching the branch.  He tried to grasp the branch with his left hand as he passed, but slammed into the cliffside
and grunted painfully.  He started to climb up the whip like a rope, nearing the branch.  Then he heard a crack.
Then another.  The branch was about to give way.  "My luck-all bad, as usual" he said angrily, looking for something
to get his whip around.  Another snap.  He noticed a larger branch just in reach.  "And none too soon!" he shouted, the
branch snapping free from the rest of the tree and hurtling down at him.  He grasped the cliffside with his left hand
and quickly snapped the whip at the other branch and pushed himself free of the cliff, the branch narrowly missing
him as it descended far below.  He turned, facing the cliff and contacted the wall with both feet and began walking up
it, his boots barely able to hold onto the wall.  He could finally see over the cliffside and lifted his leg over the
edge and hoisted himself up with the whip.  He leaned against the tree and sighed deeply.  There were cuts all over 
his arms and legs from the climb, most of which he would have avoided had he been sober.  "I can't believe I'm
doing this in the middle of the night, raining, and drunk...." he said, wiping his hair away from his face.  "But
I have to be sure.  He has to be dead-this time."  He found the same path he had used before, the area now familiar
to him, and followed it around and up to the top of Mount Dracul, where Draculas' castle had stood over a year ago.
He noticed that the front door was off one hinge and swinging in the wind, about to break.  He pushed it aside and it
fell to the ground, crumbling.  He looked around in the main hallway, many of the windows shattered with rain pouring
in on all sides.  "I never thought I would be back here again" he said, following the tattered carpeting to a set of 
winding stairs, going up.  "Always up-that was your favorite place to hide, Dracula."  He could feel the stairs 
creaking painfully under his feet, ready to break at any moment.  He stayed close to the bannister just in case he needed
something to hold onto.  He made it through the dining hall, knowing right where to go.  He noticed several rooms
had collapsed to the floors below and avoided them entirely.  Finally he entered the antichamber, where he first
met Dracula.  He started to walk past the coffin, feeling edgy now.  He felt a crack as his left foot crashed through
the floor, bringing him to the ground.  His heart was pounding.  "God!  This is ridiculous, I could kill myself looking
for his dead body!" he said, wiping the sweat and rain from his face.  He pulled his leg free and stood up, very near
to the coffin now.  The coffin was set on a stone altar, seemingly unaffected by the ruin of the rest of the castle.
As he walked by, Simon couldn't resist peering into the coffin to satisfy his fears.  No, it was empty.  He turned
away and moved beyond, where the room where he had killed Dracula was located.  He noticed that the door was closed.
"That's strange" he said, thrashing his whip a few times in readiness.  He got close to the door and listened carefully.
He could hear nothing-except for the sound of wind and occasional tapping against the door.  "Let's see what's
going on" he said, kicking the door open.  "Yaaah!" he shouted, backing up just in time to avoid a pillar that fell
past him.  He looked down.  The room had broken free of the supports and fallen to the floor below.  When he kicked
the door open he knocked one of the supports that had fallen against the door free and it too fell below.  "This
place is falling apart" he said, staring down through the rain at the broken room below.  Through the waves of
rain he could barely see the silhouette of a body.  He jumped to a nearby support and slid down it carefully, not
sure that it was capable of supporting anything anymore.  As he neared the bottom, he could feel the support breaking
loose so he jumped free and rolled away as the rock structure collapsed.  "This place is almost as dangerous as
Dracula was" he thought, musing.  He stood up and looked ahead.  There it was.  He could see the remains of the Count
even at this distance.  He walked forward, slowly, his whip ready to strike.  He fumbled in his backpack for a vial
of holy water and shook it a few times in his hand before placing it into his pocket.  He walked up to the corpse, no
more than a crumpled skeleton with a few rags, and carefully knelt beside it.  "So, you are still dead.  Well, 
old one, I don't intend on letting you come back to haunt my family or these people ever again" Simon said, resigned.
He took off his bandanna and looked at it, remembering when his father gave it to him as a child.  He placed it
on the chest of the skeleton and took the holy water out of his pocket.  "Demon, may you never rise from hell
again!" he shouted, dumping the contents of the flask onto the bandanna and the corpse, mingling with the rain water
as it fell.  He then took the skull in both hands and snapped it free and tossed it from the balcony and into the river below
and smiled.  Satisfied, he climbed down the side of the balcony and landed on his feet on the earth below.  He looked
around to get his bearings and noticed that he was around the back of the castle.  "I guess if I wasn't drunk I would
have just went around back instead of going through the front like an imbecile" he said, feeling stupid.  He was feeling
very tired, mostly from the alcohol but alot of it from exhaustion.  He crossed the river with little difficulty and
found shelter under a well shaded group of trees, where he slept, content.  His last thoughts were of his family,
who he sorely missed.

					

					Chapter 2 "Dark Power"

	"Has anyone seen Simon?  I've been looking for him since last night" Anya said, closing the tavern door behind
her.  Onric yawned.  She shot an angry glance at him and he held up his hands "Hey, I ain't sayin' nuthin."  She walked
up to the bar where Silnus' wife Maria was tending the bar while he slept.  "Madame Maria, have you seen Simon?" she
asked politely.  Maria shook her head.  "The poor man isn't treated well by some of the patrons
in here (she made sure to stare at Onric) and I'm sure he doesn't feel welcome in here-although when I'm tending bar
I won't have any of that!  Do you hear me, Onric?  The idea that you won't be getting your ale here will get through
to that thick skull of yours and get you to leave Simon be.  He never hurt anyone" she said, frowning.  "A damn
shame about his mother, I haven't had a chance to tell him how sorry I am to hear about her passing.  Must be why he 
spends more time in the village now.  He must be very lonely without anyone to turn to."  Maria seemed lost in thought
awhile until she saw Anya staring at her.  "Oh!  Sorry dear.  I have not seen him today, but I'll be sure to tell him
you are looking for him if I see him" she said, smiling.  Anya smiled back.  "Thanks, Madame Maria.  I need to find
out something from him."  Onric coughed.  Anya turned to him.  "Is that supposed to mean something?" she said, looking
at him.  "Not really.  Not...Unless you think it does, little Anya" he said, breaking into a laugh.  His friends joined
in.  Maria shouted.  "I thought I told you they'll be none of your harassing while I'm in charge of this bar!  I'll
toss the lot of you out!" she threatened, waving a club in the air at them.  Onric was still chuckling.  "If you're 
looking for your prince, I think he went to the castle.  I'm guessing he went to hang himself in private" and he
started laughing again.  Anya stormed from the tavern again, this time slamming the door behind her.  "I warned you,
Onric!  OUT!" Maria shouted, pointing to the door.  "But Mar-I'm just funnin'!"  Maria swung at his head, narrowly
missing him.  "I SAID OUT!"


	In the nearby village of Walachia, a villager cried out briefly and was silenced.  His twitching corpse
was dropped to the mud, where he lay silent.  "Pitiful" the figure standing over the body said, smirking.  "My
Lord, the rest of the villagers have either scattered or are dead" a voice called from behind him.  "Shall
we pursue them?" one said, licking his lips.  "No.  Someone has to survive to 'warn' the people of Morgovia."  The others
began to laugh hysterically.

	"Simon?  SIMON!" Anya shouted, forcing Simon up with a start.  "WHAT??!" he shouted, grasping for his whip.
"It's okay!  It's me, Anya.  You remember me, don't you?" she asked, moving towards him.  He backed up against the tree,
his back coated in mud.  "Yes, sure.  Now where the hell am I?" he asked, looking around.  She smirked despite her
attempts not to.  "You don't remember?" she asked, almost laughing.  He shook his head and then felt a rush of a headache
hit him in the temples and he braced his head in his hand.  "Ahh..No, not really.  I remember being in the tavern,
that is about it."  She smiled and offered her hand to help him up.  He looked at the mud on his hands and then looked
at how pristine and clean hers were and waved her away.  He got on one knee and stood up, his bones creaking from the
harsh workout they had last night.  "You...Have a rock-there" she said, taking a muddy rock from a crevice in his 
armor and tossing it away.  "What the hell did I do last night?  I feel like hell" he mumbled.  "You went there"
she said, pointing up to the ruins of the castle.  "At least, I think you did.  Onric was sure you went to kill
yourself" she said, frowning.  "He would like that, wouldn't he.  Him and the other villagers" Simon said, yawning.
"Not me!" she shouted, running around to face him as he began to walk away.  "Oh, that's right.  I'm something for
you to study=you're into history, right?  Well, take a good look, I'm part of it" he said coldly, clasping his whip
to his belt and walking towards the river.  "No, that's not it at all!  I think...I think you are a hero, Simon!  I
mean, you ARE a hero!"  He shook his head.  "I did what I did for me, not for anyone else.  The bastard killed my
family.  It was personal.  Nothing more."  He washed his face with the water in the stream.  He almost gasped, it was
so cold.  "You're lying.  I know you're not like that!" she shouted, looking at him.  He realized he was trying to
push her away, like he had been.  But his hurt would not go away.  "What is it you need?  You need something, I 
assume" he asked, wetting his hair and then feeling around for his bandanna.  "Now where in the hell did I put it?" he
thought, while Anya was speaking to him.  "Simon?  Simon, are you okay?" she asked, nearing him.  He rose his hand
to stop her.  "Anya, I'm fine.  Now what is it you need?  Everyone in this village needs something, should you be
different?" he said, standing up.  She frowned.  "It's not like that with me, Simon.  I swear it!  We were friends,
don't you remember those days before your father died?"  He shook his head.  "Those days were a lie.  Had they known
my father was a Belmont, we would have been cast out earlier."  He took out a knife from his backpack and began to
shave off the stubble on his throat.  Anya was angry.  "How can you compare me with those people?  Your mother was
like my own!  My family disagreed with the council, you know that!" she shouted, turning away from him.  Simon went
to reach for her, but held back.  He bowed his head.  "I know, Anya.  I am sorry.  I just...I hate the people of this
village so for what they did to my mother, forcing her to live in our old family mansion away from the people that
were once friends of hers.  It was wrong, Anya!" he shouted, holding back tears.  "I know, Simon.  And I wish I
could have come and visited you, but my parents wouldn't let me for fear of us being considered outcasts as well.
We were hypocrites, all of us.  When your mother fell ill, she needed our help, and we weren't there for her.  I
fell so terrible."  Anya began to cry, and started walking off into the forest.  "Anya, wait-" Simon called after her.
He walked up behind her and held her, her tears falling onto his arms.  "Anya, I want you to know that my mother
never once held any ill will towards you or your family.  She knew that you had no choice but to do as the village
elders demanded.  She spoke highly of you up until she drew her final breath."  Anya smiled despite the pain in her
heart.  "Thank you, Simon."  He let her go and she started to walk back towards the village.  "Anya?  You had a
question for me, remember?" he said, smiling.  "Oh, that's right!" she said, turning around.  "I was studying the
village of Morgovias' history, along with Walachia and some of the other villages we have information on, and they
all seem to agree that Dracula is 'supposed' to rise every 100 years when the powers of darkness peak."  Simon shook
the mud off of his right boot and adjusted his jaw.  "You could have fooled me" he said wryly.  "That's my point!
He came back after only one year of absence.  This is not a good sign, Simon.  For 200 years he repeated the same
pattern, and now, he didn't.  This could be bad news for us all" she said, frowning.  Simon smiled despite his
uneasiness.  "Anya, don't worry about it.  I must not have done a good enough job the first time, that's all.  The
bastard has amazing power, I will give him that.  However he sustains himself after being utterly destroyed, we
Belmonts would pay dearly to know.  But until we do, only time will tell if he has been put to rest for good."
Anya had an idea.  "What if there was a way to know?  I mean, know how he is able to return?  If we could find out, 
wouldn't it make it possible to stop it from happening?" she said, hope in her eyes.  Simon admittedly had thought
of that, but had already made attempts to find out, yielding no answers.  "I don't know, Anya.  I've tried to find
out more about him, but there is so little to go on.  I've even looked through the archives in Belmont Manor, but
I couldn't find anything useful."  Anya lit up.  "Your family has kept records?!" she shouted, rushing up to him.
"Y..Yes, of course.  Since before great grandfather Trevor, the Belmonts have kept track of Vlad Tepes, and though
my father wasn't a fighter, he was a scholar.  He and I read for many hours from the volumes in the library, both
from what was written and from what was collected about various cults and such."  Anya smiled.  "Take me there, Simon.
Please?" she begged, looking up at the man of 6'4", overshadowing her mere 5'2" frame.  "Are you sure, Anya?  It isn't
in much better condition than Draculas' castle."  She nodded.  "Yes, please.  There may be some answers there."  Simon
grudgingly nodded.  "Okay then, just let me get a bath in Morgovia first.  I look terrible."  She smiled and then
touched her nose.  "You don't smell so great either, hero" she said, giggling.  He rolled his eyes and started heading
to the village, Anya close behind.

	Onric eyed Maria closely as Simon entered the tavern and requested a room for a bath.  "Sure son, go right 
upstairs" she said, smiling.  Anya sat down at a table, waiting for him.  He took some coins from his pocket and 
slid them onto the bar.  "No, dear.  No need.  Your mother and I always were good friends, and I wouldn't do right
by her, God bless her soul, to charge her son for a room!" she said, pushing his money back.  He smiled weakly.
"Thank you, Maria.  It's nice to see that some people haven't forgotten my mother."  He walked up the stairs and was
gone.  Onric grunted.  Maria turned to him, reaching for the club under the bar.  "You have something you want to say,
dear?  Speak up!" she said, wincing.  Onric shook his head and continued drinking, muttering under his breath.  "So, I
see you found Simon" Maria said to Anya, turning her attention away from Onric for the moment.  Anya closed her book
and smiled.  "Yes.  Actually, it was thanks to Onric that I found him" she said, grinning.  Onric mumbled something to
his friends and they all got up and left.  Maria chuckled.  "He's a mess.  What was he up to?" Maria asked, wiping down
the bar with a thick cloth.  "I'd like to know myself" Anya thought, staring at the ribbon in her book.  Simons' father
had been the town historian before he was discovered, and now she was the only one to take his place-though most of
his books were burned when they destroyed their home, Anya managed to salvage many of them.  It had been Onrics' 
father, Melna, who had persuaded the village council to exile the remaining Belmonts, convincing them that Dracula
would believe that the villagers were siding with the family and kill them as well.  Anya shook her head.  It had
been 5 long years ago, and now she was a woman of 20.  She remembered that Simon was barely a year older than her,
and how Simon and Edgar, who was Anyas' age, would play together, as she was an only child.  Anya had been very close
to Edgar, and when he died, she shut herself away from people, like a closed book.  She did not want to lose someone
she cared about ever again.  She looked up just in time to see Simon come down the stairs, clean and with his hair
combed back, his armor no longer dirty, although a few dents were visible.  She suddenly realized how handsome he
was, how brave he must have been to face down Dracula-and win.  She stared at him, smiling, as he approached.  
It was not until the third time he said her name that she realized he was talking to her.  "Anya.  Are you daydreaming?"
he asked, raising an eyebrow.  "Maybe" she said, grabbing her book and standing up.  "Well, if we are to get there
and get you back before dark, we need to leave now."  He turned around for a moment.  "Thank you again, Maria."  Maria
smiled.  "No need, dear.  You are welcome in here anytime.  I swear it."  He turned back and opened the door and stepped
out.  The ground outside was still muddy, though it was dry enough to walk on without sinking.  He held the door for
Anya and then closed it.  Simon noticed how long her hair was now, her hair dark black and tied in the back, keeping
it from her face.

	"I tells ya, if that Belmont doesn't stay clear of our village, we're going to have more trouble" a villager
said to Onric, as they lifted heavy bails of hay from a wagon and carried it into the stables.  "My father saved this
town when he chased them out, and now here one comes again, to stir up more problems" Onric said, grunting.  "As if
the crop yields this year haven't been bad enough, we don't need any more curses hanging over our village."  The other
villager set his bail down and sat on it, panting.  "But what can we do?  It's not like he bothers anyone.  We don't have 
an excuse."  Onric shook his head.  "I dunno, I'll think of somethin'."

	Simon took Anya by the hand and lead her through Morgovia forest quickly, knowing exactly where to turn to get
to the Manor.  They soon came upon a wooden cross set into the ground, a circle of flowers around it and a silver cross set
on a mound of earth just in front of the cross.  Simon picked some flowers nearby and silently knelt beside the mound.
He whispered a few words and layed the flowers on the grave, covering many flowers before them.  A single tear tore itself
from his eye and rolled down his cheek.  "Simon?  Is this..."  Simon nodded.  Anya frowned.  "Your mother Sonya was
such a good person, Simon.  I wish things could have been different."  Tears filled Anyas' eyes as Simon stood up, made
the form of a cross on his chest with his left hand, and continued to the manor.  Anya looked at the silver cross, the
one Sonya had always worn, and wiped the tears from her eyes.  He waited for Anya by the steps to the manor.  "I remember
this place from when we were children" Anya said, trying to smile.  Simon took out his key and turned the bolt in the
door until it clicked and opened the door, which creaked as it moved.  He lit a lamp and closed the door after Anya
had entered.  She stared all around her.  It was beautiful.  The ceiling was vaulted, with large windows on either wall and
a circular one set in the ceiling, casting light into the entire hall.  There was a rich purple carpeting extending
all the way through the manor, even up the staircase.  "You've kept it wonderful, Simon!  It is exactly how I remembered
it!" Anya gasped, wandering around.  Simon smiled and set the lamp in its' holder and lit another.  She looked at the
paintings of all the Belmonts-she saw one of proud Trevor Belmont, and another of Trevor and a woman beside him.  There
was also one of Trevors' son, Trevor Jr., and his son, Ciaran, who was Gerards' father.  She could not see any paintings
of him, only Sonya and her children, Edgar and Simon.  "Where is your father?" Anya asked, pointing at the pictures on
the wall.  "My father never had a painting made-he said he didn't want any undue attention.  I set that one there of
mother and us after the fire.  It was all I could save."  He was silent for a moment and then walked up to her.  "The
library is this way-follow me."  Anya shook her head.  "It's all coming back to me now, I think I know where it is." 
He let her wander around a bit before she finally found the library.  She was surprised by all the books.  She didn't
remember there being so many.  There were more than she thought possible in the room, three walls stacked to the top with
shelves of books, and a shelf near a desk also filled with books.  The desk had books scattered on it as well, along with
some papers and a quill and several layers of dust, built up by years of unuse.  Simon lit another lantern, lighting up
the room a bit more.  "Well, there you are.  The Belmont library."  Anya grinned.  "I'm sure we'll find something here!
I'm positive!"  she said, eagerly walking to the desk and setting her book down momentarily to take up another.  "Here
is an interesting one-Dracula, Myths and Truths" and she blew the dust off of the cover and opened it and began to read
eagerly.  Simon took a chair and dusted it off and sat in it, staring out the window.  He was still angry, but at least
he didn't feel alone anymore.  Anya turned to him briefly and asked "What are you doing?  I need your help!  There are alot
of books here-you can't tell me you've read every single one!" she said, tossing him a book, the dust peeling from the
book like layers of skin.  He caught it and shook his head.  "Careful!  These books are very old!" he said, looking at
the cover of the book 'Cult Worship 1392-1402' and opened it and started reading.  "I've read this one" he said, setting
it down.  "Well then, grab another!" she said, pointing to the walls.  Simon sighed and went to the bookcase and took
and unfamiliar book and started reading from it.

	A man wandered into the village of Morgovia, blood pumping from his chest and arms where large gashes were.  His
eyes were bulging out of their sockets, and he was breathing heavily.  A few of the villagers went back into their homes as
he approached them for help.  "Onric, easy on the drink-that's your 7th so far today" his friend said, frowning.  "What
are you, my mother?" Onric grunted, downing another mug and waving to Maria for more.  She walked over and set the mug on
the table and waved her finger at him.  "That's your last one for today, Onric.  You're already drunk."  He rolled his
eyes and took another drink.  The door swung open, and a man staggered in, his breaths audible.  Blood flowed from a gash
just below his ribcage, and his arms had been badly cut as well.  Maria gasped as the man fell to the floor.  A man
walked up beside him and knelt down.  "He's tryin' to say somethin'!"  Maria went in the back and came back with her
husband Sulinn, who had some reknown as an herbalist.  He knelt beside the man, holding back a yawn.  "Quickly, Suli!
The man is hurt badly!" Maria shouted, urging him to hurry.  Sulinn pushed her back and told the other man to back away.
"Give him space.  I need some hot, wet towels now.  His bleeding needs to be stopped and his wounds cleaned or he will 
die!" Sulinn ordered.  Maria ran into the back and was gone for awhile.  The mans' breath became more desperate by the
moment.  "Lad, what happened to you?  Did wolves get at you?" Sulinn asked, holding his hand tight to the mans' chest,
trying to prevent the surge of blood.  "Walachia...I'm...We were..Attacked!" the man gasped, his eyes rolling back, starting
to fall unconscious.  "No, don't you die, lad!" Sulinn shouted, slamming his fist down on the mans' chest, forcing him to
take in a heavy breath and cry out in pain.  "What are you doing?" Arkan the village priest shouted from the doorway, looking
at Sulinn.  "I'm saving his life, father.  He has news that was important enough to get him all the way here alive, and
I think we need to know what it is.  Now lad, you said Walachia was attacked?  By who?  Raiders?" Sulinn asked, applying
pressure to the chest wound as Maria returned.  He removed his hand temporarily as Maria tore away his shirt and laid
the towel over it.  Sulinn reapplied pressure to the wound and looked into the mans' eyes.  "What happened, lad?"  Arkan
was angry.  "The man is about to die!  He doesn't care about what happened!  He needs to be right with God-stand aside,
Sulinn!" Arkan said, trying to get closer to the man.  Maria stood in front of Arkan, keeping him back despite her height.
"Now Arkan, my husband is saving this mans' life.  So just pray that he succeeds!"  The man began to cough, blood starting
to flow from his mouth.  "Not a good sign.  Wife, my herbs.  I need them!" Sulinn shouted.  Maria looked at the man for
a moment and then ran back into the back room, returning with some herbs in a pouch.  "Now, feed the red ones to him,
Maria.  I don't care if he wants them or not.  It will dull his pain."  She was able to shove some of the herbs into his
mouth and he chewed, coughing in between swallows.  Then Sulinn ground some of the red herb in his hands and rubbed it
into the wound, which was starting to stop bleeding.  The man seemed to calm a little, his breaths a little more regular.
The man looked into Sulinns' eyes, hopelessly.  "Walachia was destroyed...By....Vampires..."  The mans' eyes rolled into
the back of his head and his breathing halted.  "No lad..Come on, you can make it" Maria said, shoving more herbs into
his mouth.  Sulinn took her hand and forced her up, where she held him.  "There was little I could do for him, somethin'
punctured his insides.  All I could do was ease his suffering."  Arkan was furious.  "You may have condemned him to hell
for not letting me give him his last rites!  How dare you, Sulinn!" Arkan shouted, kneeling beside the body and saying
a prayer.  "Did you not hear what he said, Arkan?  Vampires.  In Walachia!" Sulinn said, taking a wet towel in his hands
and washing them off.  "What could it mean?" Valn the shopkeeper asked, wiping the sweat from his bald head.  "It means
nothing, just the babblings of a man in the throes of death.  You could all tell he was in great pain" Arkan said, 
standing up.  Sulinn shook his head.  "That wasn't it, Arkan.  With all due respect, those herbs I gave him completely
dull pain.  I think he knew what he was sayin'."  Arkan shook his head.  "You think?  Well, Sulinn, I'll leave matters
of alcohol to you, but please, leave matters of man to me!" Arkan shouted, laying a towel over the mans' face.  Sulinn
shook his head.  "As you say.  But anyhow, someone should go to Walachia to find out who he is and tell his family."
Arkan seemed to ignore him.  "You and you-carry this body to the church so it can be given a proper burial."  Two men
stood up and picked up the body and followed Arkan out.  Maria took to scrubbing the blood up off of the floor.  "Isn't
no one listenin' to me?	 Don't any of you wonder what will happen if this man was telling the truth?" Sulinn asked, closing
the door to the tavern.  Everyone went back to drinking their liquor, except Onric.  "I think it is all the work of that
Belmont.  I tells ya, he is nuthin' but trouble.  Him and his whole family."  Maria waved her fist at him.  "Onric, you
shut your mouth!  They never did anything to you, or anyone else.  We have to stop blaming them for our problems sometime
and start blaming ourselves for doing nothing!" she said, standing up and rinsing the rag out in a bucket.  "Bah!" Onric
grunted, kicking away from the chair and staggering out, followed by his friends.  

	"This is interesting" Anya said, drawing Simons' attention.  She pointed to a section of a book written by Simons'
great grandfather, Trevor Belmont.  "It says here that he was able to trace back the first time Dracula appeared to 901.
In this other passage here, he talks about how for the first hundred years, Dracula reigned supreme.  Then, in 1001, a
lone warrior, who had an artifact of great power, defeated him.  After that, every 100 years, Dracula has returned from
his slumber to reign again, only to be stopped by yet another lone warrior.  He was a Belmont, Simon!  It says here that
since the first battle with Dracula, it was always a Belmont that put him to rest.  It is like a cycle!  This could be a
piece of the puzzle."  Simon shrugged and continued looking through his book while Anya took some notes.  After awhile
longer, she added "That would mean that it has been four-hundred and four years to the day since Dracula first encountered
a Belmont.  Interesting."  "Belmonts' haven't always worked alone" Simon said, smiling at Anyas' unintentional mistake.
"What?" she asked, looking up.  "Belmonts' haven't always worked alone.  You remember that woman in the picture with Trevor?
That was Sypha.  Sypha Belmades, a sort of old school vampire hunter with some powerful skills that Trevor found indispensible
in confronting Dracula-not to mention Grant Dinesti, an old pirate....And...Alucard."  Anya smiled and continued to her
reading for awhile, then her eyes opened wide.  "Alucard??  D r a c u l a??" she said, asking Simon for answers.  "He was
Draculas' half son.  Apparently, he didn't approve of his father any more that we do."  "So what happened to him?" Anya
asked, taking notes.  "He died, I guess.  Or disappeared.  Trevor never really said much about him.  My guess is that 
Trevor and Alucard didn't get along well, Trevor being a vampire killer.  In fact, the only mention of him is in Trevors'
diary of the battle.  No other records of him were ever found."  Anya shook her head.  "That's too bad.  He could have been
a powerful ally."  Simon shrugged.  "It's hard to say-he was half vampire.  Maybe he wanted rid of Dracula for his own
selfish reasons.  We'll never know.  Anyway, that's in the past."  Anya tilted her head and gave Simon a strange look.
"That's what we're hear for, Simon!"

	The darkness swept like a blanket over Morgovia, all the villagers locked inside of their homes for fear of the
unknown.  A figure appeared at the entrance to Draculas' ruined castle, a look of hatred on his face.  "He will pay for this,
I swear it.  It is time for you to rise again, but this time, you will not be alone-father!" the figure said, entering the 
castle.  He glided up the stairs, as if hovering, and his cape wisped as he came to the top of the stairs and saw that
several rooms had collapsed.  "It will all be made great again, father."  He could feel where to go, and let himself be lead.
Soon, he entered the antichamber where the coffin still rested.  He ran his hand slowly across it, a tear in his eye.  He
continued to the next room and noticed it had fallen below.  He glided down towards the floor below, seemingly weightless.


	"Look at this, Simon!" Anya shouted, making Simon jump.  "Oh, sorry.  Look here.  Inside is a guide for destroying
Vampires" she said, smiling.  Simon glanced out a window and noticed it was dark out.  "Damn, it's already night!" Simon
said, standing up.  Anya moaned.  "Oh God, mothers' going to kill me!  I'll just take a few of these with me, if you don't
mind, Simon" she said, taking Trevors' novel, the book on killing Vampires, and a couple others, with her notes tucked inside
and rushed to the front door.  "We'll come back tomorrow and do more research" Anya said, happily, Simon locking the door
behind him and walking her out of the forest and back to the village.  

	"Father, the time has come for another hundred years' reign.  It is written.  It is our time now."  He turned to
the two figures behind him.  "Give me the virgin."  They brought her forward, kicking and screaming for mercy, to the 
leader.  He stared into her eyes, calmly.  "Do not be afraid child.  You will serve a greater purpose.  A dark purpose."
She went limp, staring into his eyes, hypnotized by his beauty and power.  He drew her close to him, his cape wafting
around her, and brought her near the headless corpse.  "With this sacrifice, I give you blood, father!" the figure said,
tilting back his head to reveal long, sharp fangs.  He moved swiftly, burying them deep into her neck, allowing blood to
flow out and drip down her naked chest and onto the bones below.  He laid the body beside the skeleton and bit into her
wrist and allowed the blood to flow onto the bones, scattered everywhere.  The two figures behind him were excited.  The
figure tossed the body aside and grinned.  "And now for the blood of your own, so that you may regain strength, father" he
said.  The cloaked vampire bit into its' wrist, dark red blood to flow onto the skeleton.  After several moments, the bones
stirred, slightly.  "The task is yet to be complete.  I shall be back" he said to his followers, jumping from the side
of the balcony and disappearing into the sky.

	"I have to get something from Madame Maria first, Simon.  Would you mind staying with me for a little while longer?"
Anya asked, innocently.  "Of course.  I can't leave you by yourself at night."  "You're always the gentleman, Simon" she
said, letting him open the tavern door for her.  It wasn't that she minded doing things for herself, but she knew that even
as a child, Simon felt compelled to do things that he thought were right-in this case, opening a door for a lady.  She smiled
as he gestured for her to go in.  As she passed him, he smiled too, despite himself.  Maria was sitting in the corner, staring
at the ground.  Sulinn yawned as they came in.  "You missed all the excitement, Simon" Sulinn said, frowning.  Simon raised
his eyebrows.  "What happened?" he asked, walking up to the bar.  Maria lowered her head.  "An injured man from Walachia
came wandering in here a few hours ago with quite a story-and I'm not sure if we should be scared or not."  Simon scratched
his head.  "Why, where is he?" Anya asked, looking around.  Maria said in a low voice, "in the earth of the cemetery.  Arkan
had him buried after he died."  Simons' and Anyas' eyes widened.  "From what?" Simon demanded, his hands on the bar.  Sulinn
shook his head.  "Now that I do not know-not for sure, anyways.  Some major tears to his chest and arms, mainly.  Looked
like a wolf did it.  He said that Walachia was attacked...By..."  Sulinn didn't want to say anymore.  Simon slammed his 
fist on the table.  "By what?  Tell me!"  Sulinn gave Simon a worried look.  "By...Vampires."  Simons' eyes widened, his
hand resting on his clasp, where his whip should have been.  "My whip!  Dammit, I must have left it at the Manor!".  He 
started to back towards the door.  "Now wait a minute, lad.  He was in pretty bad shape.  He could have been hallucinatin' 
like Arkan said.  Now I'm not sayin' he was, either.  But let's not jump to conclusions."  

	The figure hovered above the circular glass sunroof of Belmont Manor, a grimace on his face, blood glistening
on his fangs.  "With this, I destroy your place of power and your weapon with it, Belmont.  Without it, you will be just 
another miserable human in our way!" the vampire cried, throwing a torch through the glass and onto the carpet below.  
In moments, the place burst into flames, quickly consuming the manor.  The paintings began to burn through, the pictures
of Trevor and the rest of the Belmonts quickly turning to ash.  In the library, near a stool, was Simons' whip.  Soon, it
too became engulfed in the fire.  "Burn.  Yes, burn!!!  Now, your history is erased from the earth, Belmont.  And soon, all
too soon, so shall you be!"  He could feel the stirring of the bones.  "Your power over him is at an end."  He turned around
and glided towards Draculas' castle, a grin on his evil face.  

	Valn the shopkeeper suddenly burst into the inn, sweat all over his bald head.  "Morgovia...Forest...Is burning!"
he shouted, running back outside.  Simon felt a shot of pain in his chest and ran outside to look.  "NO!" he shouted, running
towards the forest.  "Simon, no!" Anya called after him, Sulinn holding her back.  "Let me go!" she cried, but he would not.
"I don't think he wants to be near anyone right now, dear" Sulinn said, trying to calm her.  "We must get water from the
river in case the fire spreads to the village!" Arkan demanded.  Several men ran to the river with buckets.  "Cover all the
nearest houses in water, as much as you can.  Something damp can't burn!  Go!" Arkan ordered, taking charge.  "Now where
is Ornic?  Has anyone seen Ornic around?" Arkan shouted to people as they ran.  "I haven't seen him since he left the
tavern after that man died" Maria said.  "We need more men on this-Sulinn, your help please!" Arkan shouted, running with
buckets to the river.  "Get her to her house, Maria" Sulinn said, taking some buckets from inside the tavern and rushing
to the river for water.  "Maria, I have to go.  He needs me!" Anya shouted, pleading.  Maria shook her head.  "His is a 
tough lot, dear.  The Belmonts have always suffered.  And he needs to be alone now.  You will only be in his way."  Anya
shook her head but Maria would not move from the doorway.  Anya sat down at a table, tears in her eyes.  "Oh Simon, I'm so
sorry."

	Two eyes suddenly shot open in the middle of darkness.  "He has risen.  But-how?" the man said in a deep
Romanian accent, sitting up and wiping the sweat from his face.  His long grey hair looked perfectly combed as he stood.  
"I have spent so long looking for a way to destroy him forever.  Can we really be indestructible?"  He stood up and took his 
sword in hand and left the crypt.

	
						Chapter III "The Resurrection"

	
	The figure reappeared at the balcony of the collapsed room.  The bones were no longer there.  He noticed that one
of the vampires was missing, and the other was cowering in a corner of the room.  The body of the woman was also not 
visible.  "Father?" the figure called out, looking around, trying to see into the darkness.  From the farthest corner came
his answer.  "My son.  I live."

	
	Simon stared at the smoldering ash, what was left of his once proud home and all of his family lineage-now nothing
more than bits of wood and burning rubble.  He sat on a rock and stared, not knowing what to do.  "My whip-the family whip-
is gone.  Gone in the fire.  Along with all of the family history...Father, I failed you."  He bowed his head and wept
in silence.  Anya came up slowly behind him, so as not to surprise him.  "Simon?"  she said, her eyes red from tears.
He shook his head to clear his mind and kept his back to her.  "Please go away Anya.  Anything that is near a Belmont gets
destroyed.  The curse is true-but it goes all the way back to the first Belmont.  I've denied it, or tried.  But it's true.
We are cursed."  Anya shook her head.  "That's a lie, and you know it!  Simon, I'm not going anywhere.  Someone needs to
be there for you, and if no one else will, I will.  I have always been your friend, and I'm not going to let you down now!"
she said, moving beside him.  "I don't need anyone.  I've never been able to rely on anyone but myself.  And I even let
myself down.  Look what happened to the Manor.  To my whip..It's all gone."  Anya put her hand on his shoulder.  "How
can that be your fault, Simon?  Because you weren't here?"  "Exactly.  I should have been here!" he said, looking away from
her.  "Simon, you can't always be where there is trouble.  You need to learn that.  Even heroes have limits.  As for your
whip, that was an accident.  You can make a new one."  Simon looked at her like she was crazy.  "A new one?  You don't 
understand-that whip has been in my family for over 300 years!  And I had to be the one to get it destroyed"  He rubbed
his face with his right hand, not knowing what to do.  "Well, there has to be a reason why it survived 300 years of wear
and tear, isn't there?  No material I know of can last that long and still be useful!" she said, looking to the ruins.
"Do you remember where you put it?  Maybe it is still there?" she said, walking towards the building.  "No-it's too late.
The whip is gone, Anya.  But you're right.  This wasn't my fault.  But somebody did this.  And I intend to find out."
Anya half smiled.  "That's the Simon I know!  Besides, not everything was lost.  All the important books are at my house-
your fathers' and grandfathers journals, those books-and all the notes I took!  I have a good memory, maybe I can condense
some of it into another book!"  Simon tried to smile.  "Thank you again, Anya.  At least something survived."  He stood up
and walked with her back to the village.  "At least I've still go what is in my backpack, and the few books you had me
stuff in here" he said, frowning.