Thunder rumbled quietly. Sypha opened her eyes a little. She could tell it was not even near Warakiya, it was rather over the
Morbid mountains.
She shivered. It was a cold night and her father wasn't there beside her. And she would never even think of going to her
grandfather - she was afraid of him. That weird old man... even Mr. Mage was more friendly.
She wished her father was there. He had been gone for over a week now. No news had came from Aljiba. She was scared.
Maybe her father would never return. What if he'd leave her, just like her mother. Ever since her mother had died, she had felt so
alone.
Sypha closed her eyes. She remembered her mother's face, her smile, her warm blue eyes. Sypha's eyes were not blue. Although
she looked exactly like her mother, her eyes were soft gray. Why? Sypha didn't know.
And... Why did her mother have to go away? She didn't want to think about it. She just didn't want to
think about her, who she missed more than anything in the world.
She turned in the bed and wrapped the blanket around her. She opened her eyes a little just to see that the fire was dying.
She got up and walked to the fireplace. She put some wood in the fire and walked to the opposite wall of the small room, back to
bed.
Suddenly, she heard something was outside. She got up again and sneaked next to the window. A silent growl, then something scratched the wall. Was it a werewolf? She hated werewolves. The thing outside growled again. It sniffed, as if it as looking for something. It growled... and then it stopped right beside her, on the other side of the wall.
Sypha got up to her feet and run out from the room screaming. She stopped by the table, grabbed her grandfather's cloak that was lying on the floor and covered herself with it.
"In the name of God... What are you screaming, girl?! I want to sleep!" Jonathan yelled. He marched out from his room and went to the other room, looking for her. When he discovered she was not in, he came back and looked around. When he noticed she was sitting by the table, he walked to her, picked her up and slapped her.
"Can't you stay quiet?"
"I... werewolf..." she cried.
"You were dreaming, you stupid girl. It was a dream."
"No! There is a werewolf..."
"You and your werewolves..."
He threw her across the room. Sypha screamed as she hit herself on the wall. Jonathan turned
and started walking towards her, but he stumbled and fell down swearing. He lay there, holding his foot. Sypha crawled away,
back to her room and hid under the bed.
She heard her grandfather swearing even more as he limped back to bed. She was scared to death. She was shaking and she
felt she couldn't breath... then she passed out.
As she opened her eyes, she saw that mist surrounded her. Slowly, it began to gather. It formed into indistinct shapes, unclear
figures with no outlines.
The wind blew softly, it caught her hair and made it flow, then entangle around her pale arms. She could hear an owl hoot in the
forest that was behind her. The smooth, transparent fog floated above the ground.
Sypha got up. She was frightened. She blinked and shook her head. What was this? She could not understand. All she could remember was... the werewolf outside her home. Her grandfather had slapped her. She was not at home. But where was she then? What was happening to her? She could not walk, she could not run away from those scary misty shapes.
As she raised her head, she saw someone. Not very far from her, in the soft haze, stood a long-haired woman wearing a battle armor,
holding a weapon she could not recognize, looking away from her.
Sypha was not cold although she was only wearing a simple shirt that reached just above her knees. The mist felt warm. She took
a deep breath. She was not alone, even though she felt this woman was... strange. She took a few steps and stopped,
then waited.
The woman turned around.
"Who are you?" Sypha asked, voice full of fear. She could barely hear her own voice, as it was lost in the silence. The woman leaned her head a little, looking at her.
"Are you lost?" she asked. Her voice was soft, much like Sypha's mother's, but stronger. She placed her hand on her shoulder and kneeled in front of her. Sypha looked at her blue eyes. The woman was beautiful. But she was a warrior. Now Sypha could see the weapon she was holding. It was a long leather whip, longer than any whip she had ever seen. A battle whip. It was an amazing weapon. She looked at the woman's face again. She could not see clearly...
"Hey, little girl? Still with me?"
Sypha shook her head a little. Everything was becoming blurry. She closed her eyes. She felt her body was drifting, with nothing holding her. And then she felt that she was falling. She fell down into the shadows, into the darkness that has no end.
Christopher Belnades stopped his horse in front of the animal shelter. He got off his horse, threw his healer equipment on the ground
and led the horse inside the shelter. He took off the saddle and the bridle.
"Good girl..." He patted the horse and left the animal shelter.
Outside, he collected his equipment from the ground and headed for the house. He was tired. He had been awake for last two days - and he hadn't slept much during the past week anyway. The people of Aljiba could rest now. It had taken a while before he had found what herbs were necessary to heal the strong fever that had killed three people and made many people very weak. Everything was alright.
All he wanted now was sleep. To get in bed, hold his daughter in his arms and sleep.
He reached the house. The door was open.
"Great." Christopher walked in and shut the door behind him. He put his equipment on the table and went to his father's room.
"Father?"
"Hmmtpth?"
"Have you been outside again? I've told you not to do so. You're sick. You shouldn't go outside in the middle of the night, it's cold."
"Shut up... mmh." Jonathan turned around and opened his eyes a little. "Oh it's you. You're back. What were you saying?"
"Never mind. Sleep." Christopher left his father and went to his and Sypha's room.
"Sypha, I'm home."
She was not in the bed. He looked under the bed. Not there.
"Sypha?"
He went back to the other room, looked at the small room where he kept his herbs... No. He went back to his father.
"Father, is Sypha here?"
"Who?" Jonathan asked tiredly. "Oh, Sypha. No, she's not here."
"Well, is she spending the night in some friend's house? Sara's? Or Robin's?"
"Oh no. Um... the last time I saw her, she was back in your room after she screamed that there is a werewolf in the house or something. Go away, let me sleep."
"I can't find her. She's not in bed. Then... where is she?"
A dark figure walked through the forest. It was wearing a cloak. Outside, the cloak was red, inside it was black. It was meant to be
the other way round, but he liked it this way better. He had black hair and pale face, white, almost like he was dead. But he was
not. A vampire.
The vampire stopped and looked around. The half-moon was shining above the dark trees and bushes that cast shadows all around him. It was a cold night, but he didn't care. The night was always cold for him. Even if the forest was burning around him, he would be freezing. Not his body, but his soul.
He continued walking. He did not know where he was going. Probably nowhere.
He saw a small meadow. He was not interested - he knew this forest like his own home. Although his home was a tomb. Actually,
it was nothing but a pile of stones, broken pillars and a coffin. So what. He didn't care.
He was about to continue his walk when something caught his attention. In the middle of the meadow, surrounded by sleeping flowers, lay a body of a young girl.
"What the...?"
He walked to her and picked her up. She was cold, all she was wearing was a shirt. No dress, no scarf, no cloak.
"Damned...!"
He had seen this before. A young woman lying unconscious in the forest in the middle of the night... the work of the devil.
He examined her quickly. There was nothing to indicate that she had been attacked. He moved her hair a little, baring her neck.
No marks there. He sighed in relief. Good. None of the vampires that lived in Castlevania had touched her.
Then what was she doing out here?
He wrapped his cloak around her. Her hand slipped out, dropping a staff she had been holding. He put her hand on her chest
and covered her with the cloak.
He picked up the staff and looked at it. He had seen it before. He looked at the girl. He had also seen her before. Wasn't this
the girl who had visited the red wizard about a week earlier?
"Yes..." he said to himself quietly. "What was your name again. Sypha?"
She's from Warakiya, he thought. Better take her home. Or maybe not. I don't know where she lives. Or do I? Her father is Christopher... Belnades, the healer? He's a friend of the red wizard. So this is his daughter. What is she doing here? What has happened to her?
He walked quickly towards the town of Warakiya, holding her gently. Black birds hovered above him, looking for something. In a few hours, the sun would rise... he would have to hurry if he wanted to make it and then get back home. Back home before the sun would rise.
Most of the people of the town of Warakiya were awake now. Bruce Stone had organized the search parties. The women
searched through the town, while the men, armed, went out to the Moor of Silence or to the forest to look for the missing
eight-year old daughter of the town's healer.
Christopher Belnades sat by the well, face buried in his hands. This was not true. This was a nightmare and soon he would
wake up and his daughter would be right beside him.
His whole life was a nightmare. It had began the minute his wife had died. Now his daughter was missing, and there were
werewolf tracks near his house. Damn all the werewolves. Damn the Castlevania! He would kill anything coming from there
from now on. Anything. Bless that Sonia Belmont, although she was a female warrior, feared for her powers, for destroying
many of the creatures. But so many years had passed, and the creatures were back now.
"Chris?"
He raised his head. "Yes?" His voice was tired, and his eyes were full of tears.
The man speaking to him was William Edwards, father of Sypha's friend Sara.
"Come on, it won't help if you just sit there. If you want to find her, you've got to get up and go looking for her."
"Sypha..." Christopher shook his head. "This can't be happening. This just can't!!"
"Chris. I told you, get up. If Sara would disappear, I would go and search. No matter how long, eventually I would find her. And before that, nothing could stop me."
Christopher sighed. "You're probably right."
"You know I am."
"What should I do?"
"Think. I already woke up Sara and asked her if there's any place she and Sypha are used to go and play. Now can you remember any place you daughter might go?"
"No... Wait. Has anyone seen Mr. Mage around here?"
"Bruce sent Frank Westmore for him."
"What if Sypha went up there? She is not afraid of Simon. Maybe...?"
"It's worth to try. Well if your daughter is there, she's quite safe."
"I'll go after Frank. Maybe... But if anyone finds her, please come to tell me at once."
"We will. Just go."
Half-running, the vampire made his way through the forest, and stopped by some bushes. He could see lights in the town.
The people are up. They've noticed she's gone. They're looking for her.
And then one thought flashed to his mind. They can't find her here with me. I'm a vampire. They'll think that... What am I going to do now?
"The red wizard..." he whispered to himself and smiled. "Of course..."
He turned and headed north for the cabin of Simon Blackwood. He went through the forest and carefully sneaked along the
shore of the Crystal lake, past the town, avoiding the people that were searching for the girl.
Back to the shadows of the trees, he ran along the narrow path that led up to the cabin. In ten minutes he could see it.
Almost there. Simon will take care of her. I must go soon, before the sun rises.
"You."
The vampire turned. He almost dropped the girl. A man was standing behind him, holding a longbow and an arrow ready.
"Who are you?"
The vampire looked at the man. About 30 years old, dark-haired, concerned look on his face. The man lowered the bow a little as he looked at the girl the vampire was holding, wrapped in his cloak.
"Sypha...?!" He raised the bow and aimed. "Let her go. What have you done to her? You're going to pay."
"I did not hurt her," the vampire whispered.
"Chris? Who's that?" said another voice near the vampire. He glanced hastily behind him. Another man, armed with a sword.
"A vampire! Be careful, Frank, he's got Sypha."
"Let her go, servant of evil," Frank said in a strong voice. He raised a small cross hanging around his neck.
The vampire knelt down and put the girl on the ground. He took his cloak and got up. Both men were staring at him, ready to attack.
"I did not hurt her," he said again, louder.
"Move away from her," Christopher ordered.
The vampire took a few steps off the path, then suddenly turned into mist and was gone before the two men could even
realize.
Christopher picked up his daughter. She was unharmed, but freezing. Her lips were blue and her face was white. She was
barely breathing.
"Is she alright?" Frank asked.
"Yes, but she's cold. I got to take her home quickly."
"What on earth was she doing outside...?"
"I don't want to think about it. The werewolves, that vampire... who knows." Christopher took a quick look at the cabin. "Mr. Mage?"
"He's not home," Frank replied. "Let's go. Here, take my cloak."
The two men left in a hurry, as Christopher carried his unconscious daughter home.