Castlevania: Genesis and Revelations

X.

A teardrop of water fell upon Richter Belmont's furrowed forehead.

Another fell upon his cheek and slowly coursed down his face.

His eyes fluttered open and he found himself staring up into a jagged corner of a broken roof and a sky of shredded, ominous iron-gray clouds. It was quickly eclipsed by the silhouette of a face, a woman's face, as a lock of her long hair coiled down and teased his face.

"Shhh..." she whispered, offering him a drink of water from a canteen.

Richter drank deeply. "Maria?" he croaked. He tried to move from the blankets over and under him, but spasms of pain wracked him when he tried.

"Yes, my dear friend, it's me."

"It looks like it's starting to rain," he murmured distantly.

She nodded and pulled her mantle closer. "Yes, and it will turn to snow by nightfall."

"Where are we?"

"In the ruins of Castlevania," she replied.

Richter winced when she said "Castlevania", as a black torrent of memories suddenly flooded into his head. Everything was returning to him. The castle, Dracula's quarters, Shaft...Gregor.

"I know what has happened, Richter. I--."

"How?" he almost accused.

"I found you next to me when I woke up in the ruins. I treated your wounds as best I could, but you had a fever and you said a great deal in your sleep which I believe to be true. It may not mean much, just know that I my heart aches with yours and that I am here for you now."

Richter ground his jaw together and swallowed the thickness in his throat. "How long was I asleep?"

"For the better part of a day."

"Maria, is there something wrong with me? You're looking at me as if there is."

She looked away, as if she had been slapped. "Your hair has turned all white."

"All white?"

"Yes."

Richter smiled humorlessly, shaking his head. It was the alien expression of power that had destroyed Shaft, and this was a price. "Do you know how that happened, too?"

"No."

"It's best that you don't, then,"

He propped himself up on an elbow and looked through the crumbled hole in the stone wall that had once been a window. A gust of wind blew in and spit rain on him. Outside, the world, as far as his eye could see, was lifeless and colored in the sepia tones of a depressed artist. This was a terrible time of year to lose faith and hope, because the weather was not going to help. He sighed as mournfully as the wind blowing through the ruins. "For the first time in my life, I don't know what to do. I don't think I can return to Veros and tell Annette about Gregor. I can hardly live with it myself. I failed everyone."

She squeezed his hand. "We'll face this trial together, you, Annette and I, with God's help, I promise you."

What God? he wondered darkly. His eyes wandered down to the small gilded cross Maria wore about her neck, and it seemed to him a tiny shield against the powers of evil. She had been moments away from becoming a Vampir's meal and the means of resurrecting Count Dracula, and maybe she didn't even know it. It had taken him to save her from that fate, in truth, but not in time for his son. Would her faith alone in the cross and the power behind it have been enough to save her? It hadn't saved Gregor. That he had no answers for her or for himself echoed what he bleakly recognized to be true. The moment Gregor had been forced over to the side of evil, his faith was lost with his son's humanity. And part of his own humanity as well.