Journey of Sorrow

Prologue: The Start of a Long, Long Quest

It was the year 1797, in the Romanian province of Wallachia. Deep within the forest lied a small cottage, situated away from most of the population. Within it stood three figures, who all wore serious looks on their faces. One was a young powerful man, with long brown hair and a stalwart expression on his face. He wore a long blue coat, with a white dress shirt and blue trousers underneath. He wore brown leather gloves on his arms, and matching boots on his feet. Next to him was a young woman in a bright green dress with a modest cut and a somewhat short skirt. Fortunately she wore long white stockings so her attire looked more decent. She had long blonde hair that ran to the middle of her back, partially done up in a bun. Before them was a tall man in a resplendent black coat with gold trim, with a matching vest underneath. He wore black trousers and leather boots on his legs, and leather gloves on his hands. A long black cloak covered his entire form. His long curly blonde hair reached the small of his back. Little more than a week before, they'd returned alive and victorious from their trek into the Castlevania, the morbid domain of the infamous vampire lord, Count Dracula. Through all of their efforts, Dracula had again been vanquished and peace returned to the countryside once more. However, the graves expressions on their faces was enough to have signified that the war against vampires was far from over.

"Are you sure about this," the young man asked of the cloaked individual before him. "Without the whip, how can I or my kin defend the people?"

"I know it's hard to believe, Richter," the blonde man replied with an impassive look, "but according to the prophecy of Nostradamus, your kin is not to touch the whip until the year 1999, when the final battle will take place."

"But Alucard," the young woman asked, "didn't you say your father had repented? Then, why will there be another battle, do you believe he was lying?"

The tall man said nothing for several moments, his expression unreadable.

"Alucard," she spoke with a somber look, saddened that he distrusted his father even then.

"Leave it, Maria," her companion read, "they've been enemies for centuries, all that hatred won't disappear so easily. Even if Dracula is being sincere."

The dhampir remained silent for several tense moments.

"Alucard," Richter spoke up, "what else did you find in the library besides the prophecy?"

"Research notes. Apparently father was developing a new technique of darkness, one that surpasses anything he's attempted up to this date."

"A new technique," the heroic man replied with a startled look.

"Yes, though it's currently little more than a theory, which revolves around soul merging."

"Soul merging," Maria asked with a confused look.

"Yes, Dracula can absorb the souls of the monsters he kills, and utilize their abilities. That's how he's amassed so much power over the centuries."

Both humans gasped at what they'd just been told.

"This theory," the dhampir went on as he held up the notes in his gloved hand, "involves fusing all the souls he's absorbed into one single entity, an ultimate vampire transformation if you will."

Richter and Maria gasped in response, horrified at the very thought.

"Yes, though it seems he hasn't tested it yet. But I fear if given enough time, he'll have it perfected in time for the final battle. We can't allow that to happen. If he employs this horrible power, it might change the course of history."

"So you really think he hasn't changed," Richter remarked with a grim expression.

Alucard again said nothing in response.

"But, if it's so horrible, why not destroy those notes now?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted. However, this might not be his only copy. Moreover, if we can fully understand this ability, we might be able to discern the means to neutralize it. That way, even if he does employ this trump card, we'll have one of our own. He won't take us by surprise."

"That sound incredibly risky," Richter remarked with a concerned look, "are you really sure about this?"

"Regardless, we can't take any unnecessary chances. We have but two hundred years to find the means to destroy Dracula completely. And unless we do, then come the eve of the third millennium, all our efforts will have been for nothing."

"So that's why you're going on this journey," Maria asked worriedly.

"Yes, somewhere in this world there must be the means to accomplish our goal. And no matter how long it takes, I will find it. In the meantime, find a hunter's family you can trust, and loan them the whip. They must serve as Romania's vanguards for the next two centuries. So come the day of the final battle, everything will be in place. And it must, failure is not an option."

"I see," the descendant of Belmont replied calmly, though he realized the enormity of their task. "This is a hue gamble you're asking us to take. If anything goes wrong in the meantime-"

"I know, but dealing with uncertain factors go hand in hand with executing any form of plan, regardless of its size. Nevertheless, we must succeed if our world is to have a future. Take care of Romania while I'm gone, will you?"

"We will."

"Good luck, Alucard."

The tall man bowed to them, then turned and quietly headed out the cottage. They barely heard his footsteps, or even the door being closed. The blonde woman turned to her companion, a worried expression on her young face. "Richter, do you think he'll be alright?"

The heroic warrior looked grimly towards the door, and folded his arms over his chest. "This is a huge gamble, but he's willing to risk it, for the sake of everyone living in this world, and even those yet to come."

Maria Renard looked away, a soft blush on her cheeks.

At that moment, the sound of footsteps came from outside the living room. Both turned, and saw a blonde woman had entered the living room, who was around Richter's age. She wore a soft pink colored bathrobe over her translucent nightgown, and wore a strange expression on her face.

"Oh, Annette!" the descendant of Belmont spoke with a surprised look.

"It's alright," the newcomer replied with a smile, "I, seem to have overslept." Her face winced in obvious embarrassment. "Richter," she asked as she gazed strangely at him, "did I hear you correctly just now? About those yet to come?"

"Y-yes," the brown-haired man asked with an uncertain look. "We have much to do, and not much time to do it. And if we fail, the world will have no future."

Annette's smile grew much broader in response, and her cheeks lit up noticeably. "Well then, I hope this helps motivate you." She blinked her eyes, and tilted her head to the side. "I'm pregnant."

The usually stalwart figure of courage and piety looked thunderstruck for several moments, as incoherent sounds came from his gaping mouth. He then raised his index finger, and toppled over onto his back, bright brown swirls where his eyes should've been.

Maria groaned in response, disappointed by her companion's reaction. "He can handle the Lord of Darkness, cryptic prophecies and untested vampire transformations, but the news of a baby overwhelms him?" She sighed ruefully to herself, and lightly shook her head. "Men."

Meanwhile, far to the north, a lone vessel had docked along the northern coast of France. From the ship emerged two figures. One was a priest of sorts, with a hooded cloak and an ornate staff in his hand. His eyes were concealed beneath the shadow created by his cowl. His companion was a dignified woman of English origin, with hot pink hair and pale skin. She wore a lime green travelers' cloak, which concealed her polished armor underneath, as well as her full figure. Her armored boots were visible beneath her long white skirt, which all but completely covered her long and powerful legs.

The woman inhaled deeply, and then exhaled in relief. "Finally we're off that ship," she remarked to her companion. "Being around all that water gave me the willies the whole trip."

"Indeed, Lady Akasha," the priest replied in a respectful tone. "Thankfully it was relatively brief. However, the rest of our voyage will be long and arduous."

"Sorta guessed that," the pink-haired woman remarked with a sour expression, and then bowed her head and emitted a somber sigh. "I really wish I didn't have to leave home like this. I'm gonna miss Mum and Dad, not to mention everyone else." She clutched her right elbow with her left hand, as a tear ran down her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Akasha," the robed man replied with a grave look as he turned to her, "but you know why they did this. It was honor your... predecessor's last wish."

The pink-haired heiress sighed to herself, and gravely nodded. "Aye," she replied in a quiet voice, "barely knew the bloke for a week or so, never even got his name. All I have to remember him by-" She then placed her hand upon her armored chest. "-is his blood, which now courses through my veins. If not for him, I wouldn't be here right now."

The priest hummed sagely. "Yes, I was surprised he passed it on to another, I was hoping to have found him before then, but I was too late." He then gave his cowled head a light shake. "But Akasha, that blood is exactly why your parents sent you away, to keep the hunters from discovering you."

The young noblewoman frowned in response, displeased by his words. "Why is that? I mean sure, they been causing a ruckus down south, but my family's never caused the humans any trouble, and vice versa. I just don't see, why'd they come after us."

"Because not all humans are so scrutinizing of your kind, they would see you merely as part of a collective whole, rather than judge you by your individual worth. To them, all vampires are evil and must be destroyed. And they would undoubtedly summon the greatest among them to destroy you." He paused for a moment, and then his eyes glowed ominously. "Belmont."

Akasha gasped aloud, and her green eyes became as wide as saucer plates. "Belmont," she spoke in a nigh inaudible whisper.

"Yes, the legends are indeed real. That is why we are avoiding Romania, lest we attract his attention. Once we get far enough to the east, he shall not trouble us."

The heiress looked to him, and blinked in comprehension. "So that's why they kicked me out of the mansion?"

"Yes, it was the only way they could protect you. Strong powers do not always ward away trouble, sometimes it invites even more than to those without."

The vampire laughed to herself as she continued to walk beside her traveling companion. "You're a real odd one, you know that?"

"I've been called worse," the robed man remarked with a wry smirk. "Regardless, I shall personally ensure your safety until we reach our destination."

Akasha hummed to herself and smiled, confident in the priest's proclamation. "Erm," she then spoke up with a peculiar look, "not to sound daft or anything, but, where exactly are we going?"

Th priest looked ahead towards the mainland. "I have foreseen, very dramatic events unfolding in the far east, which could easily change the course of history. This could be where your newly acquired powers could come into use, and hopefully prove you worthy of your new moniker."

"You think so?"

"Indeed, you may even find your one true love," he spoke with a roguish smile, "somewhere in this world."

"Don't humor me," Akasha spoke with an amused smirk, "I just got kicked out of my house, last thing on my mind is love."

"Even so, there is always someone for everyone who seeks it." He then gave her a somewhat warm smile, though it could've easily been misconstrued. "Even for you, Akasha Bloodriver."

Far to the east, deep with the Japanese mainland, a magnificent castle of western design stood upon a hill, concealed from sight by a magic barrier. A single winding path led from the castle, and proceeded deep into the forest beyond.

Just outside the castle, a resplendent black carriage was situated, along with two proud stallions. Before the carriage a tall man with an imposing build and pale features, his long dark brunette hair done in a low ponytail, and a neatly trimmed mustache and beard. He wore a long black nobleman's coat, with matching vest and trousers. Black boots adorned his feet. Next to him was a comely woman, clad in a resplendent violet kimono, with an ebony and crimson obi wrapped around her waist. Her dark curly hair reached down to her shoulder blades, and kept unbound. She wore a brilliant silver necklace with a blood-colored gem as the centerpiece, framed with small batlike wings. Before them were three figures, all in their teenage years. The eldest's features resembled that of his father, though his face was cleanly-shaved. He wore a deep crimson longcoat upon his powerful frame, with a nobleman's tie around his neck. He wore white gloves on his hands, and had a long katana strapped to his side. The youngest was a young woman with a very striking build, clad in a modest deep purple gown with a low slit going up the left side. Her long curly hair ran down to her waist, and she wore a mischievous smile upon her pale face. The middle child had hair like his mother's, and a visage that was decidedly less prideful than his brethren. He wore a simple nobleman's shirt, with deep blue pantaloons and polished leather shoes upon his feet.

"Farewell, children," the lady of the castle remarked with a warm smile, "stay out of trouble and take care of any trespassers while we're away, alright?"

"Of course, Okaa-san," the eldest replied with a proud mile.

"Have a safe journey," the younger brother remarked with a warm smile, "Haha-ue, Chichi-ue."

"Kaa-san," the youngest began with a light pout, "why can't I come with you to China? It'd be nice to get out of the castle for a change, and meet some cute boys."

"There is a very good reason you are staying here, Mizuwari," the nobleman began with an impassive look, "China is no place for an aspiring princess like yourself."

"Oh, come now, Tou-san," the curly-haired girl replied with an insulted look, "you really think I'm that weak? Just because I'm the youngest doesn't mean I can't take care of myself. My brothers can attest to that."

The two boys looked very uncomfortable, though they managed to hold their peace.

"Isn't that right, Calpico-oniisama, Issa-niisan," she asked with a sidelong glance.

"Yes, Nee-chan," the middle child replied with a wary expression.

"That was just luck," the eldest remarked with an annoyed scowl, "don't let it go to your head."

"Did I hear you correctly," the castellan asked with a piercing gaze, "you're attributing your lackluster performance that day to... luck?"

The brown-haired prince looked very nervous under his father's stare.

"Unacceptable," the lord remarked, his lips tightly drawn together, "when I tell you to kill your opponent, you do it. Such conceit would've gotten you killed when I was your age. You would do well to remember that."

The oldest sibling groaned nervously, and then reverently bowed his head. "Hai, Chichi-ue."

"As for you, Mizuwari," he continued as he turned to his only daughter, "your skills may have availed you against your brethren. But they shall assuredly fail you in China, especially against, him."

The three siblings leaned back, their red eyes wide with shock. "HIM?"

A tall man with long black hair ran at blinding speed across the wall of an Eastern-style castle, his hands tucked in his white kimono sleeves. He'd dropped in to have visited an acquaintance, when he received some rather unsettling news. He quickly decided to make himself scarce when the damiyo learned of his return and called for his capture.

He'd all but reached the end of the castle wall when a man in red samurai armor leaped up onto it and blocked his path. The fleeing man dropped down and landed in the castle courtyard, when he saw ten more soldiers headed his way. He turned to the front gate, and saw it blocked by over a dozen soldiers, all with their katanas drawn. He then saw several ninjas leap above the castle wall, somersault forward and landed close to his proximity. And from the castle proper came thirty more soldiers, armed with a mixture of katanas and spears.

The long-haired man found himself backed against the wall, an irreverent smirk on his Chinese features. "Hey, what's the trouble," he asked the hostile throng before him, as he adjusted his reading glasses. "I know I love being the center of attention, though I prefer it from women, for obvious reasons of course."

"Silence, you incorrigible wretch!" one of the soldiers snapped as he brandished his spear. "We know what you did to the lord's daughter!"

"Oh, did she tell you all the juicy details," the stranger asked with an obscene smirk, "'Cause I'll tell you, she really loved the feel of my sword!"

"How dare you speak so slightingly of this travesty!" another soldier interjected, an indignant look on his face. "Thank to you Lord Imagawa's daughter is with child, your child! Do you have any idea of what you've done?!"

"Yeah, I just left her a going away present. It's not that I dislike her or anything," he continued, as he tilted his head to the side and shrugged his shoulders, "but I'm a busy man, I got needs. I got places to go, people to meet, women to love, just like everyone else," he concluded with an indifferent motion of his hand, which had black markings upon the back.

"UNFORGIVABLE!" a third soldier declared, thoroughly enraged by the man's demeanor. "Touhou Fuhai, we shall deliver your head to our lord for this outrage!"

"Oh you think so, do you," the black-haired man asked with a defiant smirk, "bigger men than you have tried. More numerous too. It'll take more than sixty schmucks to take me down. There could be ten times that and it still wouldn't be enough. Because nothing can stand against the world's best blade." He pulled back his right hand, his palm facing upwards, which created several afterimages. "Care to find out for yourselves?"

"KILL HIM!" the lead soldier shouted.

"Guess so," the Chinese stranger remarked with a smirk. "HOUGETSU JIGENTOU!" he shouted as he immediately cut across the air, which released a powerful wave of energy that surged forward. It cleaved right through the enemy ranks, who'd barely had a chance to move before they were slain. The wave rent them all to pieces and left a huge gash in the opposite wall.

Touhou Fuhai chuckled to himself as he pushed his glasses back up his nose, and tucked his hands in his sleeves, obviously pleased with the results. "Dang I'm good," he noted with a cocky smirk.

Author's Notes: And here it is, the opening chapter of the prequel of Rosario of Sorrow. Hope everyone enjoyed it, and stay tuned for the next installment.

Glossary

Okaa-san - Mother

Kaa-san - Mom

Onii-sama - respectful term for older brother

Niisan - brother

Neechan – sister

Chichi-ue – most honorable father

Haha-ue – most honorable mother

damiyo - Japanese lord