Castlevania: Symphony of the Night Chapter 4
By Aujang Abadi
The world had changed since the last time Simon had seen it. Where once lush fields of green and blue covered the landscape, now a barren brown and gray swarmed the hills, a travesty of what had once been so beautiful. He could not see the sun, either. It was obscured from view by a thick, impregnable barrier of ominously dark clouds. He leaned heavily on his cane, shaking. Ire stormed up within him; he grit his teeth in frustration and forced himself to stand steady. Simon raised a brow in cynicism.
"What's with the clouds, eh?" He coughed, spitting to the side. "I didn't know Dracula was a fan of clichés."
"He's not. That is what happens if Castlevania is not destroyed in the meager time its here. If he is not banished at the time of his arrival, he lets everyone know." Trevor sighed. "It's been like this for one hundred years, Simon. That's how long you were ensla-incapacitated."
"One hundred years of hell." Sarah whispered, leaning against the deadened stump of a tree. "Things do not grow without sunlight. All it ever does is rain. The ground is a saturated muck that holds no life, and no mercy. We die in the hundreds, from starvation and sickness." She glared at Simon. "Is that clichéd enough for you?"
Simon did not return the gaze, but felt his cheeks burn from humiliation. He looked away suddenly, down to his gaunt, skeletal form. "Why am I so weak? I can barely move myself... and my speech slurs. Am I to live the rest of my life as a cripple?"
"You have not used your muscles for a century. They are understandably indignant to their sudden labor." Trevor's form hovered in the air. "Your training will have them recovered in due time. We have perhaps a year before Dracula is allowed entry into the world once more. If we do not banish him this time... he stays." He turned to Simon. "I know you are bitter, Simon. But please, let me train you. You are our only chance of freeing the world." They'd had this discussion before, and Simon's jaw clenched.
"No. I will not be trained." His grey eyes hardened. Flecks of cynicism and pain shone through the twin orbs. "They'll all die. You should have let me do the same." Simon began hobbling back towards their small cabin.
"Simon, how can you be so selfish? The world needs you; this is your purpose! This is why you were born!" She thrust her hands emphatically. "How can you so easily scorn your destiny? Help these people!" Sarah protested. Simon stopped, and turned slowly, to face her.
"Look at me." Sarah rolled her eyes. "NO! Don't you dare mock me!" He dropped the cane and unsteadily lurched towards her, grabbing her chin with his hand and forcing her eyes to stare into his. "I'm tired of fighting, Sarah. I'm so tired. It's over. Dracula won. I failed; the Belmonts failed; everyone failed! They danced before he came for them, Sarah. Danced. They knew he was coming again. They knew this would happen. But they didn't do anything to stop it. And I-I let him come. I ignored my instincts; I ignored my duty; and he won." He turned away, defeat caking his voice. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing more I can do. He's too powerful. He took everything from me… and then he threw me to those whores. He's won, Sarah. He's won." Simon released her and stiffly walked back to the cabin. Sarah watched him go, her eyes flooding with grief.
"Trevor, what did they do to him? He's not the same man I knew... he's not even a shell of that man. He just doesn't care anymore. He really doesn't."
"I know, Sarah. But he doesn't have a choice. The poison in his veins isn't as imaginary as you'd like to believe... let me go after him. He and I have much to discuss." Trevor floated away, following his descendant's deep footprints.
* * * * *
"Trevor, I don't want to talk about it." Simon was curled up in front of the fireplace, watching the flames flicker. "Please, go away."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Simon. You don't know the full consequences of the situation. I was hoping I wouldn't have to tell you, but it looks as if I have no choice."
"God, could we be any more melodramatic?" Simon chuckled to himself. "Let me guess... if I don't fight, something very bad will happen to me... I'll burn in hell? Well, it won't be too much of a change... I've been there before. The women are great lovers." He closed his eyes. "Just go away, Trevor. Let me die alone. I'm tired."
"You won't go to hell at all... you'll stay right here, Simon. Right on earth. In fact, you'll never leave it. Think you're tired now? Try living forever... I'm sure Dracula could tell you he gets positively exhausted." Simon's eyes gradually crept from the fire, to stare at his ethereal ancestor.
"Just what are you getting at, Trevor?"
"If you do not banish Dracula, you'll become just like him, and I don't mean emotionally." Trevor smiled grimly. "The Belmont bloodline isn't all cookies and cream, Simon. We aren't like normal humans; we don't just die when our blood gets sucked. We are the human equivalents of vampires. That's why we make such effective hunters. Nothing is quite so vicious as a blood feud.
"You were never taught the nature of the blood in your veins, but that is my fault, not your own. I did not think such an education was necessary to our clan. In fact, it could have proved disastrous, if anyone outside of the line discovered the truth." Trevor's form wavered, as he considered the gravity of the words to follow.
"I was the first Belmont, Simon, because I was the bastard son of Vlad. He enjoys charming human women, to take them as mistresses. Luckily, most of the human characteristics took over when I was born... but the fact remains. I am as much a vampire as human, or at least I was." He grinned and wove a weightless hand in the air. "Now I'm a spook. But as I was saying, we're vampire killers because we're vampires. We don't yearn for the blood of human men, though I doubt you'd find it as repulsive as we make it out to be, if you drank it. Your body is engineered for it, after all. We don't fear crosses or light… we're not allergic to silver. But there's a catch.
"Most of the Belmont clan doesn't have this trait, because we have to marry outside of the clan. By introducing normal humans to the equation, the blood tends to thin out. It gets diluted, and with its dilution the quality of the hunter decreases. The stronger the inclination towards sanguinisa, the better a Belmont we are. You've heard the saying, 'you are only as good as you know your enemy to be?' That's literal, for us.
"Dracula was alone in the world until I was born. I was only one of a thousand offspring, however... all of the others fell to his command, and eventually died-by my hand. But the point is, Vlad was the only vampire before we were born. Since I killed all of my makeshift family, the only half-breeds left were Belmonts-my line. You need Vlad's blood to be a vampire, Simon. We are susceptible to Dracula's curse. In fact… we are the only ones capable of holding his curse. Only Belmonts can become vampires." Trevor waited for the weight of his words to sink in.
"So we become vampires." Simon's eyes flickered. "Wait. If we become vampires..." His eyes widened as he looked back to Trevor. "Oh my God. No." Trevor nodded. "Every single one of them... was?" Trevor nodded again. "Oh my God."
"You will become just like them, feeding on the innocent, and the helpless. And the line dies with you, Simon. If you do not banish him now, no one will be able to stop him again. No one will be able to stop you.
"That's why you have to fight, Simon... not only because the world needs you, not because I want you to, and not because it's the right thing to do. Because unless you fight, you will be denied the most basic right any man can be given.
"You have to fight, Simon. For the right to die."