Chapter Text
You sit on the edge of your bed, a travel bag open before you. The decision to visit the Abbot again had been brewing in your mind ever since Strahd's return. The need to understand your past, to uncover the truth about your life as an Aasimar of Lathander, has grown too powerful to ignore.
You pack with a sense of urgency, your hands moving swiftly as you gather your essentials. Clothes, a few precious keepsakes, a small journal, and the symbols of Lathander you had managed to collect during your time in Castle Ravenloft. Each item you place into your bag feels like a step closer to reclaiming your identity, a step away from the dark, temporary promises Strahd had woven around you.
As you pack, memories flood your mind. The one clear recollection from the Abbey's graveyard of a past life alongside friends, was an indicator that the Abbot has been around life enough to know you existed within the walls of that Abbey before. The Abbot held knowledge that could be the key to unlocking your true self.
And by extension, the string of fate that inexorably tied you to Strahd.
The idea of escaping Strahd's grasp, even if only temporarily, fuels your determination. The castle's oppressive atmosphere becomes unbearable, the walls seeming to close in on you with each passing moment.
The sound of footsteps in the corridor startles you. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. The door creaks open, and Rahadin stands in the doorway. He surveys the room, his eyes narrowing slightly as they settle on your half-packed bag.
"You're absent for dinner," Rahadin states, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of suspicion. "What's going on?"
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "I need to leave, Rahadin," you say, meeting his gaze. "I need answers. The Abbot... he knows something. You can tell Strahd that I’m leaving to cure my lycanthropy."
Rahadin's expression remains impassive, but you can sense the tension in the air. He steps further into the room, his eyes flicking between you and the bag. "Strahd will be pleased to hear this.” Rahadin watches you for a moment, the silence stretching uncomfortably. Finally, he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. "If you must go, then go.”
You nod, grateful for his unexpected leniency. "Thank you, Rahadin," you say, shouldering your bag. "I will be careful."
As you step past him, Rahadin's hand reaches out to grasp your arm gently. "Remember, Strahd does not easily let go of what he considers his. You may find what you’re seeking with the Abbot, but you will also find danger."
"I understand. But I have to try."
Rahadin releases your arm, watching as you make your way out of the room and down the corridor. When you finally step outside into the cool night air, the sense of freedom is exhilarating.
The night air is cool and crisp as you make your way to the stables. Inside, the familiar scent of hay and horses greets you. The horses stir softly in their stalls, their eyes reflecting the faint light. You approach a gentle mare, her dark eyes watching you curiously. You recognize her as one of the more docile horses, often used for shorter, safer journeys. You reach out a hand to her, whispering soothingly.
"Hey there, girl," you murmur, your voice soft and calming. "We're going on a journey tonight. Just you and me."
The mare snorts softly, her ears flicking forward as if she understands your words. You stroke her neck, feeling the smooth, warm coat under your fingers. She nuzzles your hand, and you smile softly.
You move quickly but carefully, preparing her for the journey. You saddle her, checking the straps and making sure everything is secure. Once you're satisfied, you lead her out of the stable.
Outside, you pause for a moment, looking back at Castle Ravenloft. The towering spires and dark, brooding walls seem almost ethereal in the moonlight. This place has been both a prison and a home, filled with memories both dark and bittersweet.
With a final glance, you mount the horse, settling into the saddle. You lean forward, patting her neck reassuringly. "Let's go, girl."
You gently nudge the mare forward, and she begins to walk. When you pass through the gates of Castle Ravenloft, the feeling of liberation washes over you.
You urge the mare into a canter, the rhythmic pounding of her hooves a comforting sound. The wind whistles past your ears, carrying with it the scent of pine and earth. The forest looms around you, the trees tall and shadowy.
You stay along the path, urging your horse to maintain a steady pace. Your cape flutters behind you in the night breeze, a dark banner against the moonlit trees.
The hours slip by in a blur of shadows and silvery light. The forest begins to thin as you approach the outskirts of Vallaki. The first light of dawn tinges the sky with pale hues of pink and gold, chasing away the remnants of night. You feel a sense of relief as the town's walls come into view, their sturdy construction a promise of safety.
As you draw closer, you notice the guards posted at the gate. Their eyes narrow as they spot you, hands moving to their weapons. You pull your horse to a stop, waiting for their command.
"Halt!" one of the guards calls out, "State your business."
You raise your hands in a gesture of peace. "I’m just passing through. I’m on my way to Krezk.”
The guards exchange glances. One of them, a grizzled veteran with a scar running down his cheek, steps closer. "You are not invited." he says gruffly. Then, almost as if on cue, he signals to the others, and the gates begin to creak open.
The lack of invitation was a ward against vampires, unable to cross any thresholds without an invitation. In order to ensure people weren’t creatures of the night, they had to audibly speak the lack of an invitation. As far as you knew, it was the safest and most effective way to ward off vampires in a city.
The gates open just wide enough to allow you to pass through, then close behind you with a heavy thud.
Once inside, you guide your horse through the cobbled streets, the morning light casting long shadows across the buildings. The town is waking up, residents beginning their daily routines. You head directly to the Blue Water Inn, its familiar sign swinging gently in the breeze.
You dismount your horse, tying her to a post before pushing open the door. The scent of hearty food and the murmur of conversation greet you as you step inside Your eyes quickly find Danika, her face lighting up as she sees you.
"Mum-”
Danika hurries over, enveloping you in a tight hug. Her arms are strong, comforting, and you feel a rush of relief. For a moment, you are no longer a creature of darkness but a child seeking solace in a parent's embrace.
"My dear, you're still alright," Danika murmurs, her voice trembling with relief. She pulls back slightly, her hands resting on your shoulders as she looks you over, ensuring you are unharmed. "Is there anything I can get for you?"
You smile weakly, the weariness of your journey and the emotional toll of recent events weighing heavily on you. "A meal and a few days of rations would be helpful. I need to go back to Krezk."
Danika nods, her expression one of determination. "Of course, dear. Sit down, and I'll have something prepared for you right away." She turns and calls out to the kitchen, "Get a hot meal ready, now!"
As you settle into a chair by the fireplace, the warmth of the flames begins to thaw the chill that has settled into your bones.
Within minutes, a hot meal is placed before you, the steam rising in tantalizing tendrils. The aroma is heavenly, a mixture of roasted meats and fresh herbs that makes your stomach growl in anticipation. You dig in eagerly, savoring the familiar flavors that remind you of simpler, happier times.
Danika returns with a small sack of rations, placing it gently on the table beside you. "This should last you a few days," she says, her voice tinged with concern. "But are you sure you have to leave so soon? You can stay here, rest a while longer."
You reach out and take her hand, squeezing it gently. "I need to see the Abbot again," you explain. "There's something I need to understand about myself. But I'll be back, I promise."
Danika nods, though her worry is evident. "Be careful out there, my dear. The roads are dangerous, especially now. I hear that there’s unrest among the Vallakians. Some are even talking of a coup against the Dark Lord. If they see you, an associate of Strahd, they may do something to hurt you."
"’I’ll be careful." you assure her, finishing your meal and gathering your things. You stand, feeling slightly more fortified for the journey ahead. "Thank you, Mum. For everything."
Danika hugs you once more, and you can feel her silent prayers for your safety as you step back out into the world. You mount your horse again, the sack of rations secured behind you, and bid a final farewell to the Blue Water Inn. The road stretches out before you, a winding ribbon through the heart of Barovia's wild and untamed wilderness.
As you journey through the forests, the sounds of nature surround you: the rustling of leaves, the distant call of birds, the occasional snap of a twig underfoot. The path is rough and uneven, but your horse moves steadily, its hooves clopping against the packed earth. You keep a wary eye on your surroundings, ever alert for the dangers that lurk in the dark corners of Barovia.
The hours pass, and the sky gradually darkens, the deep blue of twilight giving way to the inky black of night. You eat the provided rations along the way, to ease the hunger pangs of your journey. The trees close in around you, their branches forming a dense canopy that blocks out the starlight. The air grows cooler, and you pull your cloak tighter around you, the fabric fluttering in the evening breeze.
By the time you arrive at the outskirts of Krezk, the town is bathed in the soft glow of lantern light. The guards at the gate peer down at you, their faces obscured by the shadows cast by their torches.
"Who goes there?" one of them calls out.
You raise your hand in greeting, "A traveler seeking passage to the Abbey of St. Markovia."
The guards exchange glances before nodding in unison. The heavy gates creak open, allowing you entry. "Be welcome in Krezk," the guard says, his tone more welcoming now. "But be cautious on the mountain path. It's treacherous at night."
You nod your thanks and guide your horse through the gates, the familiar cobblestone streets of Krezk underfoot. The town is quiet, the residents having retired for the evening. You make your way through the narrow streets, following the path that leads up the mountain.
The journey up the mountain is arduous, the path steep and winding. The air grows colder with each step, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the town below. The sounds of the forest give way to an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional gust of wind and the distant howl of wolves.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the silhouette of the Abbey of St. Markovia comes into view. The ancient structure looms against the night sky, its weathered stones bathed in the pale light of the moon. The heavy wooden doors stand closed, but a sense of sanctuary emanates from within.
You dismount your horse and approach the doors, your footsteps echoing in the stillness. Taking a deep breath, you lift the iron knocker and let it fall, the sound resonating through the night. You wait, your heart pounding in your chest, knowing that within these walls lies the key to understanding your past and perhaps your future.
The door creaks open, revealing a figure cloaked in shadows.
The Abbot stands before you.
"Welcome back, Martikov." he says, his voice eerily calm. "Come inside. We have much to discuss."