CastleVania: The Unfinished Symphony Chapter 2
Ascent of Power
By The Dark Requiem
The year: 1456.
The place: Tirgoviste, a Wallachian town near the Arges River.
The child has now grown into a young man…a young man with none to call his own.
His father and older brother: brutally slain by the Turks nine years ago in the marshes near Bucharest.
His mother: long since dead.
All that is left is him…and his younger brother Radu.
Yes, Radu…good, faithful Radu…at least for now…
They are the only two survivors in his family of the wrath of the Turks.
The Turks…he hates the Turks for what they have done…to him…to his family…and to his sacred order…the Order of the Dragon…
Dracul.
His father was known as the Dragon. He was perhaps the bravest and strongest that the order had seen since 1387, when the order was founded by the Holy Roman Emperor. He was perhaps the living embodiment of the whole order.
Dracul.
The order, out of respect for his father, had bestowed upon him a sacred title. He was the Son of the Dragon.
Dracula.
The Son of the Dragon…the avenging angel of the order…the last hope of a desperate people…
The last hope against the Muslims…the Ottomans…the Turks…
The Turks…
He hates the Turks…
But there is another…another he hates more than the Turks…they were merely the instruments of the murder…not the cause…
A word flashed through his mind…a word he knew all to well…
Boyar.
Nobleman.
The aristocracy.
The cause.
Yes, the aristocracy had been the cause.
The aristocracy that handed his father, Voivode Vlad II Dracul, and his brother, Mircea, over to the Turks…to later be executed…
The aristocracy that would not let him ascend the throne in 1448…
The aristocracy that took away his birthright…and his family…
But that was all changed now…
He was Voivode now. He fought his way back and took his rightful place…and reclaimed his birthright.
He had help, of course. He couldn't storm Wallachia by himself. And his mother was a Transylvanian princess. And Transylvania belonged to Hungary.
With the help of Hungary, he was able to take back his power.
But what came next…he would do himself…
He had to establish his power…and avenge his family…
The Turks could wait. He would deal with them when the time came.
Boyar.
He was going to make the aristocracy feel his wrath. And he knew just how to do it.
But not yet.
He laughs to himself and his long, black mane shakes with every laugh. Yes, he thought, let them have their way for now. They will never see it coming.
But not yet.
He strokes his long black mustache as he looks out the window, viewing his capital city….viewing the Arges…viewing a mountain just along the river valley…
The timing must be perfect.
Not yet…but soon.
Boyar.
Soon.
.