The morning sun bathed the citadel in golden glow, softening the jagged tension in the air. Seraphine stirred from her sleep. Her mind was slow to rise, haunted by a strange dream - a presence, unseen, that had lingered at the edges of her senses. A gaze that seared.
She pressed a hand to her chest, grounding herself. Evander's gift - the Phoenix chain - was cool against her skin, a steady reminder of his vow.She trusted him. She had to.
Evander entered her chamber without knocking, cloaked in formality but with a softness in his smile. "You didn't sleep well. "
"I slept enough, "she replied,though the shadows under her eyes betrayed the truth. She didn't mention the dream. The feeling of something dark watching.
Before more words could pass, the cry of the Royal horn tore through the air.
In the throne room, voices rose like a gathering storm. Messengers stood pale and breathless, bearing the seal no one dared speak aloud. A black wax crest pressed with crimson fang.
The court fell to stunned silence as the scroll was read.
"To the kingdom once sworn to light,
From the House that thrives in the dark,
I, Valen Noctarion, rightful ruler of Elarith,
declare war upon your throne,
For depts unpaid. For sins unspoken.
Your Sun shall fall beneath my shadow. "
Seraphine froze.
Valen Noctarion.
She knew that name only from blood stained pages of ancient times. The exiled vampire prince.
The sinner who vanished into legend. She has never seen his face - only the stories etched in the history books her tutors once feared to open.
But he lived. And he was coming.
"A blood war, " Evander said grimly, "He wants both our kingdoms. He's risen again. "
Seraphine's breath caught. She had no memory of him. No reason to be in his path.
So why then... did she feel like this war had been waiting for her?
Before she drowned into her thoughts, Evander stepped forward, his voice calm but taut, "We'll protect the kingdom, Seraphine. I will protect you. "
And she believed him.
Far away, under the blood moon of the vampire lands, Valen Noctarion sat upon a throne carved of obsidian and ancient bones. The great hall was silent.
He leaned forward, pale fingers steepled beneath his lips.
"She still wears another man's crest, "he murmured,his voice low and deep, " But she won't for long. "
At his side, a raven perched in silence, as if awaiting it's next command. Behind him his generals knelt in silence.
"I gave them time. I gave her peace, " he murmured, "And now.....let her come to know my name not as a tale,but as her fate. "
His eyes, the color of spilled wine in moonlight, burned with a hunger not born of blood.
"She trusts him. "The words were nearly a whisper. " She still believes in him. "
His voice darkened with something between a curse and a prayer.
"My Seraphine...." he said like a vow no god could break. "She will learn.Trust is the cruelest weapon of all. "
And with that, Valen turned, his cloak trailing like smoke as he walked to prepare his army.