
In the region of old Transylvania, “perched high in the Carpathian Mountains ”stood an ancient Kingdom, Aethelred.
House von Caerstein ruled its northern frontiers with iron discipline and cold nobility.
King Hadrian von Caerstein was a titan known throughout the Free Kingdoms as 'Frostborne'
It was a title earned due to realm he ruled, the harsh cold northern.
Legends tell that King Hadrian stood as tall as a spruce and carried a broadsword forged from a meteor. His presence alone was said to warm the coldest courtyard. When he spoke, even the ancient, stubborn mountain peaks seemed to bow their snowy crowns in acknowledgment.
Hadrian was the anchor of his kingdom, his honor an immutable law. He was a father who ruled by virtue and a man whose greatest strength lay in his absolute certainty of right and wrong. He protected the bloodline, the Von Caerstein legacy, with the fury of a thousand.
Married to Isolde Erzsébet Zalvári
Queen Isolde of House Von Caerstein, born a princess of a rival northern kingdom, A Hungarian princess.
Came to the Carpathian frontiers as a bride in a fragile peace treaty. Regal and poise with a mind as sharp as any strategist’s.
Wise, compassionate, and quietly formidable, she became more than a queen, she became the heart of the realm, guiding her people, tempering her husband’s strength, and shaping the destiny of her children and kingdom.
King Hadrian and his Queen Isolde had four sons, four heirs taught that greatness was born through blood and duty.
Cassian, the eldest, He has dark, slightly wavy hair, steel-gray eyes, and sharp, noble features that reflect both strength and intelligence.
He carried the weight of inheritance like armor, ruthless and cold.
Darius, the second, has a striking, charismatic presence that contrasts with his elder brother’s stoic authority.
He has dark hair, slightly tousled, and sharp brown eyes that hint at cunning and charm. His facial features are noble yet softer than his elder brother’s, with a confident smirk that suggests both wit and mischief. He lived for battle, a well known drunkard and womaniser
Edric, the black sheep, A tall and imposing member of House Von Caerstein, known for his cunning mind and mastery of politics. He has dark, neatly kept hair streaked with silver, piercing steel-gray eyes, and sharp, angular features that convey intelligence and authority.
And then there was Aurelius, the golden, beloved by the people, the youngest and most handsome brother of House Von Caerstein.
He is tall, with a commanding yet graceful presence. His chiseled features, strong jawline, and warm, piercing brown eyes exude both nobility and approachability.
His golden-blonde hair, inherited from his mother, blessed with a gentle heart and a courage that did not need proving. Thus earning him the title "Aurelius the noble"
Their early years were marked not by peace but by a growing terror.
For beyond the dark pines of Aethelred, a demon hunted the night.
For decades, the northern Carpathian frontier had been the site of constant conflict. Rival kingdoms sought to claim the fertile valleys and strategic passes of House Von Caerstein, but time and again, they failed.
Battles were waged on icy cliffs and mist-shrouded forests, and though the invaders were clever and well-armed, the resilience, strategy, and vigilance of the Von Caersteins always held.
Frustrated by repeated failure, one of the rival kingdoms turned to dark and forbidden means.
They sought out a sorcerer of terrible renown, who promised a weapon unlike any blade or army could match.
From the sorcerer came a demon, a being of destructive power and insatiable hunger. Released into the Carpathians, The beast ravaged the land, laying waste to villages, slaughtering soldiers, and leaving the once-thriving frontier in terror and ruin.
No one knew its name. But they called it Malcor
Some said it was a cursed beast from the old wars.
Others whispered it was born from the kingdom’s sins.
It killed without pattern, peasants, soldiers, noblemen, leaving their bodies untouched , their souls utterly consumed
Fear settled on the kingdom, and terror filled the people's heart
Then, one day on a moonless night, the demon struck the heart of Aethelred
The royal carriage, returning from a diplomatic feast, was ambushed.
By dawn, the king and queen were dead, their bodies found the next morning.
The kingdom trembled.
With the king's death, the enemy saw an opportunity to invade
War drums echoes
House von Caerstein rally all the help they could find
The brothers rode to war....
The enemy forces surged forward, hoping to take advantage of the chaos, but the Von Caerstein brothers were unyielding.
Steel clashed, arrows whistled through the fog, and the cries of men and beasts filled the frozen valleys.
Cassian led with commanding precision,
Darius struck with deadly skill, and Edric orchestrated their maneuvers with unmatched cunning.
Aurelius on the other hand was more interested in the Malcor looking for everyway to eliminate it.
For two weeks the battle raged on, and in the end the Von Caerstein won
the battlefield was a ruin of blood and fire. The enemy had been routed, their banners trampled underfoot, and the Carpathian frontier had survived but Malcor remained.
It had not been slain, its fury and hunger still burned, a lingering threat that none could ignore.
They hunted the creature, but each clash ended in failure.
Cassian’s strength could not crush it.
Darius’s blade could not outrun it.
Edric’s strategies failed to ensnare it.
The kingdom did not fear the invaders but the deadly demon that hunts the night.
After the battlefield fell silent and the brothers regrouped, Aurelius wandered through the ruins of their ancestral hall, the weight of their loss pressing on him.
Amid the shattered banners and burned tapestries, he found a hidden chamber in the castle keep, a place only the eldest heir was meant to enter, which he knew he shouldn't.
Inside, ancient tomes and scrolls lined the walls, chronicling the deeds of generations past.
One scroll caught his eye, a detailed account of House Von Caerstein defending the Carpathian frontier centuries ago, not with armies alone, but through the symbolic authority of the family crest.
The silver bat entwined around a crescent moon had long been more than decoration, it was a relic of the house’s dominion, blessed by the first rulers to command respect from both men and beasts of the mountains.
As Aurelius read, a realization struck him, the crest could project the will of his bloodline over the land itself, asserting control over intruders who would not submit to the house’s authority.
With no time to waste, he took the scroll to his brother Cassian.
Aurelius clutched the sacred Von Caerstein crest in one hand and the ancient scrolls in the other as he approached Cassian. “This… this could be the key,” he said, his voice tight with urgency. He explained everything he learned.
“But only a rightful king can command it.”
Cassian’s eyes gleamed with determination. “I am the solution! Cassian laughed, grabbing the scroll fromAurelius.
We’ll find Malcor and end this.” With that, he mounted his horse, the other brothers following close, and they rode into the mist-shrouded valleys in pursuit of the crimson-eyed horror
When they finally confronted Malcor, Cassian raised the crest high, invoking the authority of the house, but the beast merely snarled and advanced. Nothing happened.
The second time and the third time still nothing
Darius stepped forward snatched the crest from Cassian, confident, and laughed. Yet nothing happened.
Then Edric, each attempting the ritual, but the crest remained inert, its power untouched.
The three brothers exchanged anxious glances.
Finally, all eyes turned to Aurelius. “You,” Cassian said quietly, “try it.”
Aurelius’s heart pounded, but he lifted the crest with steady hands, reciting the words from the ancient scroll.
A silver light shimmered across the mountains, sharp and commanding. Malcor recoiled, its shrieks echoing through the cliffs, then, as if recognizing the dominion of the rightful heir, it retreated toward the outermost border.
The brothers watched in awe as Aurelius guided the beast through the treacherous passes, eventually chasing it into the desolate, mist-choked outlands where it finally took lair on the kingdom’s periphery, Aethelred borders, a jagged cliffs beyond the kingdom.
Only those foolish enough to approach the border now faced its wrath, the heart of the Carpathians remained safe.
Finally the threat was eliminated
The people hailed Aurelius
Noble lords toasted him.
Ladies of court praised his valor in hushed, breathless tones.
And when he stood beside Maria, the most beautiful maiden in the land, his betrothed.
The kingdom looked upon them as the future.
A new dawn.
A new era.
A new king.
But admiration can sharpen jealousy.
And jealousy, in the hearts of brothers, can become a blade.
Cassian, Darius, and Edric watched the cheers rise for the youngest.
The crown drift toward him instead of one of them
Their envy festered into something poisonous.
And so, they lured Maria from the castle, lied to her that Aurelius awaited her, that he wished to meet her beyond the old forest.
They led her instead to the demon’s lair.
A paige sent by his brothers told Aurelius of what happend
But before he reached the cliffs, it was too late.
Maria’s body lay broken near the jagged cliffs of Malcor’s lair, her blood staining the snow.
He got down from his horse, ran to her, "Mariaaaaa" he shooked her pale body violently, but she was gone.
Rage and grief tore through Aurelius like fire. He spurred his horse, charging at the beast with a ferocity no mortal should hold. Steel met fang, courage met darkness.
In a final, cataclysmic duel.
Fueled by despair, and finally found the creature’s weak point.
He drove his sword home. The Malcor gave a screech that could explode the brain. and in its final death throe, it lunged, burying its cursed fangs deep into Aurelius’s neck.
The demon was dead. But the price was paid.
Pain, blood, and unholy fire surged through him.
Aurelius felt the icy venom spread, the sudden, sharp, unbearable craving.
When he looked at his own hands, they were pale as grave wax, and his vision was stained crimson.
Cursed.....the youngest prince was no more.
That night Isolde youngest son died…
and something immortal rose in his place.
A creature of night.
A vampire.
His brothers, watching from afar. saw not a hero, but a monster. When they rode back to the castle to claim the throne, they found him waiting. Driven by a rage, vengeance and a thirst that would never be quenched, he lunged at them, his screams echoed through the halls as he tore through his brothers.
The carnage did not end there. Every courtier, every guard, every servant who had once sworn allegiance to him, every face that reminded him of the world that had betrayed him, was slaughtered. When dawn broke, the great Castle of Aethelred was silent, it's banners soaked in blood,
Aurelius remained, bound to the cold stone by his curse and his rage. The fear of his vampiric wrath spread like plague, and the surrounding hamlets became abandoned, silent, terrified places.
Thus earning him the title King of Ashes
For 500 years, the castle slept.
Its stones blackened.
Its halls frozen in time.
Its tragedy sealed in dust.
Until now.
Far across the ocean, in modern-day New York, an art student preparing a art history project boarded a flight with her classmates heading to Transylvania in search of a mythical, abandoned fortress spoken of in old myth tales.
A maiden who bore uncanny to the dead prince bride "Maria"
And as she stepped foot onto the ancient soil of Transylvania
something old stirred in the darkness
A heart that had not beaten in five centuries.
Aurelius opened his eyes.
And thus began a love story, a forbidden romance that bore evil itself, one that could either redeem the cursed prince or history repeating itself
And destiny began again.
Latest Chapter
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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