Last of the Belmonts (A Castlevania: Season 1 and 2 Fanfiction)

Chapter 4: Speakers

Gresit. Wallachia. 

Trevor and I followed the elderly Speaker leader to a large house just outside of town. 

'This is where we live,' the man said, gesturing to the house. 'Please, come inside. Meet my people.' We stepped inside, and several other Speakers sat around a small fire in a semi-circle. 

'Elder, we were worried about you,' one of the young men said, rising to his feet. 'I told you it was too soon to go outdoors.'

'And I told you it was necessary to offer aid to the people,' the older man replied. 'However, I was met by some of the Christian priests.'

'Are you all right?' 

'Thanks to these two,' the older man said, turning as we stepped up. 'Although I fear there may be trouble ahead because of it.' 

'What did you do?' the young man asked. 

'We're a little out of practice,' Trevor replied, scratching his neck absentmindedly. 

'They're both still alive,' I said with a chuckle. 

'You used violence on them?' the young man asked indignantly. 

'The younger people believe that words speak louder than actions.' 

'Well, you're Speakers. Words are what you do,' Trevor replied. 

'You know of us?' the young man asked. 

'Our family's always been on good terms with Speakers,' Trevor said, crossing over to the window of the building looked out of it, 'although my father once got into a fight with one.' 

'True Speakers do not fight,' the young man remarked. 

'When he tried to convince a Speaker to have your oral history transcribed on paper,' I interjected. 

'Ah, yes,' the older man remarked, 'we are quite protective of our ways. History is a living thing. Paper is dead. Would you like something to eat?' 

'I'd prefer something to drink,' Trevor said. 

'Arn, bring our friend some water,' the older man said. 

'Oh, the - never mind, then,' Trevor replied, and I chuckled as my brother walked towards us. 'Maybe you can just tell us why you're here.' 

'Speakers live anywhere they deem right,' the young man said. 'You must know that.'

'I know Speakers are nomadic tribes,' I said. 'You seem to have been here a while.' 

'How do you know that?' the young man asked.

'Because the locals are blaming you for the attacks,' I replied. 

'That's the church's doing. They need someone to blame.'

'To divert people from the truth, that the church itself brought Dracula's hordes down on the land.' 

'Really?' Trevor asked in disbelief. 

'There were Speakers in Targovishte one year ago. The church burned Dracula's wife at the stake as a witch.' 

'Shit,' Trevor and I both muttered at the same time. 

'That is indeed one way of putting it,' the older man said. 

'But you didn't answer my question,' I said. The older man came near the window and sat down heavily on a stool. 

'There is no structure left in Gresit. No doctors, no aid. If you know Speakers, then you know we can't turn away from those in need. That is why we are here.'