2025-12-12 18:48:58The moment Isolde stumbled out of the Great Hall, her hands over her eyes, the sheer terror radiating off her was palpable. She didn't have to utter a word to signal the danger.
Maya, whose nerves were already shattered by the attack of the Zimbrul Fomist earlier that day, waited for no one. Seeing Isolde’s face was enough. She abandoned the tripod she was holding and raced down the slope to the parked minivan, wrenching the door open and diving inside.
“Marius! Go! We are leaving!” Maya shrieked from the passenger seat, her hands trembling as she fumbled for her seatbelt.
Marius, who had been guarding the perimeter, moved quickly. He packed up the remaining gear with practiced efficiency, throwing the bags into the trunk before jumping into the driver's seat. Isolde scrambled into the back, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Ben hopped in after.
The minivan tore away from the castle gates, bouncing violently down the treacherous King's Road.
**********
The chaotic journey couldn't distract Isolde from the image burned into her mind. She gripped the armrests, her knuckles white.
"It was..... a ghost," Isolde whispered, her voice shaking. "A... A man.
No...no... it's not a ghost... it's aura depict breathing presence."
"What did you see, Isolde?" Ben asked from the seat beside her, looking back at the shrinking silhouette of the black spire.
"He was..... Isolde trailed off .
"He was incredibly handsome, high, sculpted cheekbones, blonde hair, like a medieval prince from a painting. But his eyes... they were gold mixed with ice. He looked at me with such sad eyes
He didn't speak, but I felt him inside my head."
Marius listened silently from the driver's seat, his eyes fixed on the winding road. He had never looked upon Aurelius's face the legends his family guarded only spoke of the name and the wrath.
Hearing Isolde describe the King's features with such vivid, terrified precision sent a shiver of dark recognition through him.
History never recorded a painting of him, Just tales from people who knew the kind hearted prince
They spoke of him, and how noble his features looked like. And Isolde description matched exactly!
*********
They drove straight to the regional hospital to check on Leo. He was awake, his shoulder heavily bandaged, listening to Isolde’s frantic description with wide, feverish eyes.
"High cheekbones? Gold eyes?" Leo whispered, sitting up despite the pain.
And you’re sure that's not your imagination??
What?! Leo! I'm not crazy! Isolde yelled
Leo i believe her, remember we are also attacked by a demon! If not for Marius knowledge about the beast we'd practically be tagged crazy. Maya defended Isolde
"We'll.... this is getting interesting, we search deeper then, remember he practiced necromancy.
We might find something history itself never mentioned. We can't leave." Leo said
"I can't go back there, Leo," Isolde said, shaking her head.
"He looked at me like he... recognized me. Like he was claiming me."
"We aren't leaving," Leo said stubbornly. "I'll take the painkillers. I'll take the risk. We stay in the village. We regroup."
You guys never wanted this in the first place! I practically begged you guys to just scan the castle one time, why are you pushing this? Isolde asked
Remember your words that night? You said one step.....
Well we took that step and discovered something that could change our career forever. Are you just gonna throw them away? Leo asked
But still we could as well be endangering our lives, there's actually a real demon guarding the castle Leo! Maya chipped in
Well you returned unharmed, as long as we follow Marius lead, trust me we are fine. Leo protested.
Ben sighed heavily.......
Marius stepped forward, his face a mask of concern. "You need rest. Go back to the Corbul Negru.
I need to return to the trailhead to retrieve the thermal sensor Maya dropped. You guys said It is an expensive equipment. I will go alone. it will be faster."
Exhausted and terrified, the team agreed. Ben and Maya drove Isolde back to the inn. As soon as they were out of sight, Marius climbed into his own rugged jeep. He did not drive to the trailhead.
He turned the vehicle back toward the mountain, driving into the deepening night.
************
Marius parked his jeep in the deep shadows of
the forest below the castle walls. He did not approach the main gate where the tourists and scholars entered. Instead, he walked to a section of the wall obscured by centuries of thick, black ivy.
He pressed his hand against a specific stone, whispering a phrase in Romania. A narrow, hidden door grated open.
Marius stepped into the servant tunnels, the air instantly turning freezing cold. He walked with the confidence of a man who knows he is home.
His family had not just lived in the village, they had served the House Von Caerstein for generations, believing that the "Tyrant" was the only true King of the Carpathians, protecting his solitude until the curse could be broken.
He emerged into the King's private study, a room untouched by the ash that coated the rest of the castle.
Aurelius stood by the unlit fireplace, his back to the door. He was still, like a statue carved from obsidian.
“She saw you, my King,” Marius said, dropping to one knee and bowing his head low. “She is terrified. But she described your face to them. She saw you clearly.”
Aurelius turned slowly. In the gloom, his golden eyes burned with a terrifying, predatory light.
“She saw me because I allowed it,” Aurelius’s voice was like crushing ice. “Maria....”
“Yes, my King,” Marius replied, daring to look up. “I told you she was the one. Her features match exactly the Princess portrait in your chambers. The likeness is... unsettling.”
Aurelius walked past Marius, looking toward the window that overlooked the valley where Isolde inn is situated. A rare, cold smile touched his lips.
“You have done well, Marius. Your bloodline has been faithful when all others fled. You have brought the happiness I was longing right to my doorstep.”
He lifted a hand, and the shadows in the room seemed to dance in anticipation.
“I thank you for finding me my beloved. Prepare the castle.....
Soon, the cold will not be lonely anymore.”
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Chapter Eight: The Archaeologist Obsession
The near-death encounter with the wolves failed to scare Isolde out of the High Carpathians, instead, it solidified her strange, dangerous obsession.She spent the morning of the attack narrating to Ben, Leo and Maya, insisting the man she saw was the same man she saw in the castle, the night of the bonfire as well.Leo, however, was thrilled. "A physical encounter! She was saved by something real. This is not a ghost story anymore!"The person you have been seeing was actually a real person?? Alive and breathing!! Ben howledMarius brought this, earlier this morning, Leo pointed to a large, brittle map he had spread out on the Corbul Negru’s table, pointing at a small structure half a mile from the main castle ruin.“This is the only auxiliary structure labeled in the 17th-century texts, the Watcher’s Tower. It was supposedly the private archive and observation post for the Von Caerstein family, sealed after the catastrophe. If there’s uncensored history, it’s there.”Ben was liv
Chapter Seven: The Bride, Rose, and the Wolves
Isolde returned to the Corbul Negru after the festival, her mind reeling. The image of the pale man in the black coat, the man who looked the same as the man she saw in the castle burned behind her eyelids.After bidding the others goodnight, she couldn’t sleep, she tossed and turned for hours.When she finally drifted into a fitful doze, she was awakened by the sound of her window latch clicking shut.She sat up, heart pounding. "Who’s there?"The room was empty. The window, which she was certain she had locked, was unlatched. But on the sill, bathed in the pale moonlight, lay a single object.It was a black rose.It was fresh, velvety, and impossibly perfect, with thorns that looked like polished obsidian. Next to it was a small piece of parchment. Isolde picked it up, her hands trembling.There was no text. It was a charcoal sketch.It was a drawing of her, standing by the bakery wall at the festival, looking into the shadows.The skill was masterful, capturing not just her
Chapter Six: Bon fire Night
A week passed, and the sharp edge of terror began to dull, replaced by the mundane rhythm of recovery. Leo was discharged from the regional hospital, with his arm in a sling.He set up a command center in the Corbul Negru’s common room, analyzing the few blurry frames of data they had captured before fleeing the castle.In the meantime, Isolde and Maya tried to integrate themselves into the village. They spent their days in the small market square or the bakery, buying bread and asking questions.The answers they received were a frustrating tapestry of contradictions.Everyone only talked about one person, The youngest prince of the Von Caersteins "The Prince?" a baker said, dusting flour from his hands. "He was a great military leader who went mad with grief. He jumped from the spire.""No, no," an old weaver corrected them later. "He was a sorcerer. He dabbled in alchemy to bring his bride back and blew himself up. The castle is haunted by the explosion, not a man.""A tyran
Chapter Five: The mysterious Servant
The moment Isolde stumbled out of the Great Hall, her hands over her eyes, the sheer terror radiating off her was palpable. She didn't have to utter a word to signal the danger.Maya, whose nerves were already shattered by the attack of the Zimbrul Fomist earlier that day, waited for no one. Seeing Isolde’s face was enough. She abandoned the tripod she was holding and raced down the slope to the parked minivan, wrenching the door open and diving inside.“Marius! Go! We are leaving!” Maya shrieked from the passenger seat, her hands trembling as she fumbled for her seatbelt.Marius, who had been guarding the perimeter, moved quickly. He packed up the remaining gear with practiced efficiency, throwing the bags into the trunk before jumping into the driver's seat. Isolde scrambled into the back, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Ben hopped in after.The minivan tore away from the castle gates, bouncing violently down the treacherous King's Road.**********The chaotic journey
Chapter Four: The scent of old Blood
AureliusFive centuries. The word was a mathematical concept, devoid of feeling. Five centuries of cold, eternal night, where the only sensations were the gnawing thirst and the crushing weight of memory. Prince Aurelius, now the King of Ashes, stood immobile in the highest spire of Aethelred.He had sensed the moment the four warm bodies crossed the cursed line but it was not the scent of their life that drew him. It was a resonance, a sudden, violent vibration in the heart he hadn't known could still beat.He glided to the broken window, the air in the spire instantly falling to a temperature that would freeze mercury. He looked down upon the frail, fragile mortals setting up their strange, bright equipment. And there, standing on the desolation of his courtyard, was the impossible.Maria.......The gasp was silent, a physical impossibility that nevertheless ripped through his chest. Her face, the stubborn set of her jaw, the dark hair falling just so across her shoulders it w
Chapter Three: Aethelred
The frantic journey down the mountain road ended just as the sun broke fully over the distant peaks. They reached a regional hospital on the outskirts of Cluj-Napoca.After hours of tense waiting, the doctor confirmed Leo’s prognosis: a deep, ragged laceration, severe blood loss, and a clear need for heavy antibiotics. He was stable, but he would be grounded for weeks.In the hospital cafeteria, the remnants of the team Isolde, Maya, and Ben stared into their lukewarm coffees.Isolde broke the silence, the road to the clinic took us three hours.That’s six hours round trip on those roads. We’d be traveling well into the night to get back, and we know what happens after dark.”Maya, still shaken from the attack, stared down at her hands. “The Zimbrul Fomist. He called it the Hungry Auroch.”“It’s tied to the castle, Maya. That means this entire valley is a perimeter,” Isolde explained, drawing strength from the cold logic she was imposing on the situation.“Marius has organized a ro
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