> "Kings are not born from crowns… they are born from ruin."
The kingdom of Eldrath slept under the pale moon, its towers cloaked in mist and sorrow. The banners of the once-great House Draven still fluttered, but their colors had long since faded—like the honor of the crown itself.
Prince Lucien Draven, the second son of King Edric the Just, rode home through a field of ghosts. The war at the border had ended—victory, they said—but Lucien carried only the weight of corpses and betrayal. His armor was cracked, his blade rusted with blood not his own. The crows followed him all the way to the gates of Eldrath Keep.
Inside, the city had changed. The people no longer bowed. The air was thick with fear, and the royal guards wore unfamiliar crests—the serpent of Alaric, Lucien's elder brother.
When Lucien entered the throne hall, he found his father's banner torn down, replaced with Alaric's black sigil. The once-golden throne of Eldrath gleamed under torchlight, and upon it sat King Alaric, draped in shadow.
> "Brother," Lucien said quietly, "where is our father?"
The courtiers fell silent. Alaric rose slowly, a faint smile on his lips.
> "Our father," he said, "was weak. His mercy fed the wolves. He died so that Eldrath could be strong again."
Lucien's heart turned to ice. He reached for his sword—but before he could speak, the guards closed in.
> "You were meant to die in that war, Lucien," Alaric whispered. "You were too beloved. Too dangerous."
Lucien tried to fight, but betrayal came swift. His own captain—his most trusted friend—struck him from behind. Chains bit into his wrists as they dragged him to the dungeons.
In the cold below the castle, Lucien watched the last candle die. Outside, thunder rolled.
By dawn, the proclamation was made:
Prince Lucien Draven, traitor to the crown, to be executed for treason.
As they led him to the gallows, rain began to fall—slow, cold, and red as wine.
The people turned away. No one spoke.
And as the noose tightened, Lucien looked at the blackened sky and whispered:
> "If gods exist… may they damn you all."
The trapdoor fell.
And with it, so did the last breath of the man who would one day be known as—
The Vampire King.
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