2025-12-12 18:46:15The 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 rotation among the village elders. One of them will stay at the hospital to look after Leo. An old woman named Ana, agreed to sit watch. She’s the only one Marius trusts.”
Leo, struggling to speak, managed a raspy, “Go. Finish. Don’t waste the grant.” before he was wheeled into surgery earlier.
His pragmatism, even in pain, was the final push Isolde needed. The decision was brutal but made. They would proceed with the mission, and the moment they had the key information, the structural scans, the architectural data they would retreat.
At noon they set out.....
The road back to the inn was quiet
Maya, staring out the window as Ben drove. The headlights cut through the fog in narrow slices, revealing empty trees, empty road, empty everything.
Isolde with her eyes closed, head swung backwards, hugging her coat.
They reached the village quicker than any of them expected.
Ben parked in the small gravel lot.
Maya opened the door but didn’t step out immediately.
“You return late… and without one.” The innkeeper questioned.
Maya brushed past her, "We noticed she said bluntly" she wasn't in the mood for riddles
Isolde gave the innkeeper a fake smile
He had business to take care of, he will be here soon
She turned to Marius, you know well they shouldn't wander at night. She said and went on her way
Ben, Isolde glanced at Marius
The team and Marius gathered in Isolde’s room
Maya dropped into a chair, rubbing both hands over her face.
Ben pulled a folding map from his jacket and pinned it to the wall.
“We go at sunrise. The castle is an hour away. Gear is packed. Fuel is topped.”
Isolde flipped through her field journal. Any weapons??
Whatever weapons that works on a dark beast, we don't have it. Ben replied
Do not worry, Marius assured them, the Zimbrul Fomist won't be around during the day
The three shared a silent look of fear, determination.
Ben walked up to Maya
“You’re sure you want to come with us tomorrow?”
She sighed deeply and nodded once.
Marius bid them goodnight, Ben went back to his room.
Maya still on the chair feeling disturbed, the image keep flashing in her head, she didn't know if she actually saw the figure or if it was her mind playing tricks
She couldn’t tell her teammates, because everyone is already playing pity party for her, since she's freaking out too much. But is it not enough to freak out??
You should sleep.... Isolde voice brought her out of her trouble mind
I.... I can't....
“I keep hearing it… that sound it made.
It..... it keeps playing in my head and..... she stopped.
And..... she stopped again
Shhhhhh Isolde pulled her to a hug, patting her like an infant
It's okay to be scared..... it's fine baby
Maya buried her face into Isolde’s shoulder and sobbed.
*********
The next morning
The minivan was packed and silent. Isolde, Maya, and Ben stood waiting by the vehicle, their technical gear the LiDAR scanner, the thermal cameras, the heavy battery packs suddenly feeling pathetic against the primal threat they now knew existed.
Marius appeared, wearing a heavy, oilskin coat and carrying not just his knife, but a short-barreled shotgun slung over his shoulder. He did not ask if they were ready; he merely gave a brief nod toward the driver's seat.
“The drive is shorter now, but the path is not a road,” Marius said, settling in. “It is the old King’s road. It is broken in places, guarded in others.”
The old King’s road was a ribbon of shattered cobblestones that wound its way up the sheer cliffs. The ascent was dizzying. The air grew thinner and colder, and the dense pine forest began to give way to a landscape of scrub brush and twisted, leafless oak. It was a place where winter never truly relented.
As they gained altitude, Isolde noticed the subtle, sinister changes Marius had alluded to. The moss on the rocks was not green, but a strange, fungal black. The earth was pallid, and no birds sang. The silence was absolute, a massive, unnatural hush that pressed in on their ears.
“The border of the curse,” Marius murmured,
The land is poisoned.
"There," Marius pointed, his voice harsh.
They had rounded a massive, gray slab of rock. In the muddy churn just off the path lay the grisly evidence of last night’s attack: the partially devoured carcass of a mountain goat, its ribs exposed, the mud around it thick and dark. The smell was sharp, coppery, and foul.
Maya let out a muffled sound of distress from the back seat, and even Ben looked visibly ill.
Marius drove right past it. "It feeds only on what is close. It guards the door. It makes sure no one grows too comfortable here."
But not during the day
The drive felt endless, but finally, the ground leveled onto a vast, desolate plain of ash and shale. And there, dominating the entire world, stood the Castle of Aethelred.
It was larger up close, its towering bastions seeming to scrape the low, bruised clouds.
The stone absorbed all light, making it look less like architecture and more like a massive, obsidian shard jutting from the earth.
Isolde felt the anxiety of the journey fall away, replaced by an overwhelming, electric awe. This was it, the endpoint of her research, the centerpiece of her thesis, the ruin that contained the entire tragic history of Aurelius.
Marius killed the engine. "We walk from here. I stay by the castle entrance. You have two hours. The weather turns fast on this mountain."
Isolde was already unbuckling her seatbelt, grabbing the thermal scanner. She didn't look at the gates. Her eyes were drawn, as they had been in her dreams, to the highest point the central, jagged tower where the large, vacant eye of a window stared out.
The window was dark, a black hole in the gray stone. But for one heart-stopping second, as a gust of wind howled down the rampart, Isolde thought she saw a flicker of movement a shape, tall and impossibly still, silhouetted against the inner shadow. It was gone instantly, maybe a trick of the light or the adrenaline-fueled exhaustion.
She shivered, but the cold was irrelevant.
Standing at the gates of Aethelred, and the castle, she realized, was far from empty.
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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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