Intro. The wind howled, carrying the metallic smell of blood and the distant echo of funeral bells. Ten years. Ten years of enforced peace, a sepulchral silence that covered the kingdoms like a veil of icy mist. Ten years since the last sacrifice. Ten years since Zephyr, the vampire whose name was whispered in shades of terror in every corner of the vast territory, had signed the treaty. Enaidel felt the chill of the rough stone beneath his back, the weight of the crown of thorns newly placed on his head, a crown that symbolized not royalty but rather sacrifice. Her fingers, thin and delicate, nervously traced the cracked designs of the fabric of her dress, a fabric as thin as the spider's web that bound her life. She was the chosen one. The offering. The price of peace.
Zephyr, the legends went, was a creature of supernatural beauty. Hair as white as eternal snow, so long that it almost touched the ground, framed a face sculpted by the darkness itself. His eyes, crimson as ruby.