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1476 – one year after Dracula had released his army on Wallachia

Zaros woke up on a bed, cold and alone. Annoyance bubbled in his stomach. The people from last night had clearly taken their leave already, leaving only the empty bottles and torn clothes as evidence of what had happened.

He ran a hand through his red hair, cut short because of all the work he had been doing the past year. His pupils were red rimmed from all the drugs he had taken last night which only made his red eyes stand out more. He was in the middle of a wild orgy when he got the brilliant idea to get high, not finding it in himself to manage the night without the help of something stronger than alcohol.

His past year was one hell of a ride. Dracula had ultimately turned on the humans, terrorizing villages and going on massacres all around the country with his fucking magical castle. All the while paying him for some meaningless bounties.

This whole ordeal wasn't too bad. He got paid from the humans to exterminate night creatures, while Dracula paid him to kill some higher standing people, he didn't have direct access to. In any case, this whole genocide accident was causing his money pouch to grow heavy.

As did his chest with every day he had to go through with Adrian's absence.

Zaros washed his face, trying to also wash away the thought. He lifted his face to the mirror. His eyes didn't find their reflection in the broken mirror and Zaros clicked his tongue in annoyance. He almost forgot being a vampire came with a few shitty sides. He turned to the mess of clothes on the floor, trying to find which was his.

The nights when he wasn't high, drunk or fucking he was doing his job, hunting people and nigh creatures, taking his pay and wasting the money for alcohol, prostitutes and anything that proved interesting. Then the whole process repeated.

He was about to get dressed when a commotion on the streets piqued his interest. This fucking Gresit town was getting on his nerves with the stubborn Speakers and the people of the church having a full-on war at this point. More and more corpses lined the streets every few months or so when he decided to pass through here. The stench was horrible.

Zaros was about to get himself down and behead everything that dared look at him twice when suddenly a whipping sound, followed by screams caused him to pause. Now this was a new sound in this boring town.

He peered out through the window, spotting a Speaker, like always, and a brown headed male with the Belmont crest on his tunic. His lips pulled in a smile as he looked more closely to the men of the church that were currently screaming over their lost body parts. How amusing.

The smell of blood clouded his senses for a moment as he reveled in the soft feel of the metallic scent. Then everything was over in a few minutes, the men dressed in black robes running away and the Belmont talking with the Speaker before they left too.

This wasn't any of his business, there was nothing in it for him, why would he bury his nose where it wasn't its place. But a Belmont? Right in the town where Adrian was sleeping? And a group of Speakers. This surely wasn't a mere coincidence.

"Fate," Zaros grinned, laughing maniacally at his own thought. "God indeed knows how to play with his creatures."

His eyes skimmed the room one last time before he picked his things, attaching all his weapons to his persona and exiting. Zaros checked his pouch, pleasantly surprised by the amount of money still in there and considered them enough for the following few days.

A Speaker, a hunter and a vampire. Just the thing for the prophecy to be truth. Now all he had to do was make sure he didn't miss any of the upcoming drama, lay back and enjoy the show those three were about to put up for him.

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