Search The Archive

< Back Alucard Aleksei Reiner Aleksei, Caedis Luciferson, Luca, Ezra Wright Lord of the Nosferatu, Creator of vampires Born: Decem 31st 532(TG) Zodiac: Scorpio Age: 428 (looks 28, stopped ageing at 26) Height: 185cm (6ft1) Species: Sangdevoro, Meridian witch, Numen Bloodline: Lucidian Previous Next

CHAPTER TWO ー ⊰ ✟ ⊱ ー THE BARD'S TALE | Elvin | Elvin flew out of the tavern's wide-open door, grasping his beloved lute against his chest. His pecan-brown hair was scattered with pieces of rotten tomato and peanut shells, and as the crowd inside hollered in revolt, he pouted sadly. "You don't know a good story when you hear it!" he yelled, shaking his fist. "Get lost!" the doorman shouted, pulling the door shut. Alone on the street, Elvin scowled sullenly. He had so many other things he could say, but what was the point of wasting his breath? No one wanted to hear his stories; nobody wanted to hear the truth about the vampires they shared Dor-Sanguis with. He was the only one that could tell that story...but he'd not give another second to the hapless drunks inside that establishment. As he ruffled his hair with his hand and shook the food from it, he turned around and walked down the cold, lantern-lit cobblestone street. He pulled his feather-tipped hat from his inside pocket, and once he put it on, he glanced up at the star-filled sky. He admired the array of beautiful colours spread throughout it as a result of the six brightly glowing moons. The mixture of purple, red, blue, and gold shined like sunlight through a stained-glass window, and if there was anything Elvin found beautiful in this world of darkness and misery, it was that. He looked up and down the road, but there wasn't a single person in sight. The quietness sent a shiver down his spine, and he didn't know where he was going. He thought he'd be in the tavern much longer than he was, and for all he knew, it could be hours before it was time to meet Alucard. A small school of shimmering, silver fish swam around the lantern he was approaching. What were they doing out now? Skyfish didn't descend past the clouds unless it was raining. Was it going to rain soon? That was the last thing he needed. His hat wouldn't keep his head dry and he'd surely catch a cold. He started thinking about the tavern again, and it made a sour scowl warp his face. "I'm better than all the other bards," he told himself as he turned left at the crossroad. "All they sing about is nonsense about some ugly lady and her stupid man friend. No one wants to hear about that. Stupid love stories. Stupid bard. Stupid tavern. They should be pining after my stories!" He looked back over his shoulder as the wind raced past him, almost swiping the hat from his head. "I'm talented," he muttered, pouting. His words hadn't gone unheard. He sharply turned his head to stare ahead as a low growl ruptured the night's ominous quiet. The bard frowned and gripped his lute tightly, watching a pair of dim yellow eyes shimmer in the dark alley across the road. He tensed up and dropped his instrument as he screamed in horror, but before Elvin could flee, a blurred beast burst out of the shadows and crashed into him, pinning him against the wall. The bard let out a hysterical screech, and the wolfish monster snarled ferociously in his face. Elvin whimpered and cried as he tried to escape the monster's grip. He knew he couldn't do anything, though. What was a measly little human going to do against a werewolf? Suddenly, the sound of slicing metal silenced the beast. Blood exploded from the wolf's neck, spraying all over Elvin's revolted face, and as the creature's head slid off its body, Elvin squirmed around in revolt. The beast hit the ground, and as a river of red oozed down the street, the bard frantically dragged his hands over his face, trying to wipe the blood away. But then, he gritted his teeth in anger; he turned his head sharply and set his eyes on his saviour. "You always do this to me!" he exclaimed, stumbling back as he glared at the ice-pale man who stood with the dead beast at his feet and a bloody rapier in his right hand. While Elvin stood a mere five-foot-five, this man towered above six feet tall. Alucard took his hellish eyes off the beast and glared over at Elvin. The light of the lanterns shone oddly on his red-as-blood hair, which fell to his jaw in length, tied loosely behind his head—much like Elvin's. A small, gold-looped earring shimmered in his right, sharply pointed ear, and an irritated look clung to his pale face. He flicked his sword, banishing the beast's blood from its blade before sheathing it at his side. Elvin shuddered in fear, wrapping his arms around himself. "What the heck was it doing here?!" "Your guess is as good as mine," Alucard grumbled. His accent was thick, and he spoke much faster than anyone else Elvin knew. Alucard didn't hail from the same land as him, but he had been around him so long that he understood every word. "W-what if there's more?!" he shrieked, looking up and down the road. "There are no more." Elvin trusted him. He let his arms hang at his sides, stared down at the headless beast for a moment...and then gulped, looking over at Alucard. "R-right...okay, well...thank you, I guess." "What are you doing out here? I told you to stay in the tavern." He scoffed and muttered, "They kicked me out, that's what." Alucard smirked amusedly. The bard huffed in frustration. "You hate my stories, too, don't you? You should thank me, you know. I go out of my way to try and tell people your real story. The people here aren't so open to this whole 'become allies with the humans' thing you got going on with the city." "And do they listen?" Alucard asked, stepping away from the headless wolf. He pouted stubbornly. "No." "Then, I suggest you find a new hobby," he said, glancing down at Elvin's shattered lute. Only just coming to notice his precious instrument had suffered in its fall, Elvin screeched hysterically and dropped to his knees beside it. "Why must I suffer so greatly this horrific night?!" "You grieve for your lute, yet it doesn't matter that you almost became something's food?" Elvin looked up at him. "I almost become something's food every night, Vuuren," he said with a scowl. "That isn't my fault. You were the one that chose to follow me around," he mumbled, shrugging as he watched the bard climb to his feet. Wiping his trousers, Elvin sighed. "How else am I supposed to write a story?" he asked, walking beside Alucard as he led the way up the street, leaving the dead wolf on the roadside. Elvin glanced back at it and frowned. "And you're gonna leave that there? In the forest, sure, but here in the middle of the road?" "My people will come and get rid of it," he said dismissively. "No one is going to listen when you try to tell the better side of a story that has forever been told as a tale of horror and murder," he continued. "The people in this town can hate my plan all they want—it is happening, whether they like it or not. As for your story, if it means so much to you, have you not thought about making it about someone else?" "Well, you convinced the city to live with vampires, so I'm sure this place will come around eventually. And why would I want to write about anyone else? You're the greatest man I've come to meet! Where else in this boring world do you think I could find someone like Alucard, the son of a Numen; Vuuren, The Vampire Lord of the night, Vlad, the first monster to walk the land in the body of a man!" he sang. "There's no one else out there I could ever possibly want to write about." Alucard rolled his eyes in response. "That's not what I meant; my name has been spoken ill of for too many centuries. Write about me, but give me a new name." Elvin pointed at him as his eyes filled with astonishment. "You're right! No one would be none the wiser. But what to call you...A...something," he said, tapping his chin. "I'll think of the greatest name! I would call you Alucard—" Alucard scowled in hostility. "But...you don't let anyone call you that. It's either 'Vuuren' or 'my lord'." Sighing, Alucard shook his head. "Just...leave the backstory out, huh?" "Why? Your past is what got you to where you are now; how could I take that out?" "Because it doesn't need to be known," he snarled. The bard hung his head in shame. "Yeah, you're right." Then, he glanced back over his shoulder at the headless wolf. With his fear returning, he looked up at Alucard. "What do you think that wolf was doing here? They've not been brave enough to come out of the forests in weeks." "I don't know. I will find out, though. The last thing I need right now is for them to become a pain in my ass again." Elvin nodded. "Yeah. Maybe Tobias can help." He looked up at him, waiting for him to respond, but when he didn't, the bard swiftly changed the subject. "Did you get your things done for tonight? The things you refuse to tell me about." "Da." That meant yes. "So...will you tell me about them now?" He didn't reply. "Tell me...please?" he pleaded. "No." Elvin frowned irritably. "You never tell me anything." Alucard looked over at him and sighed. "I killed a werewolf Alpha for someone, and then Damien summoned me to meet him." "Oh, Damien, huh?" he asked with a look of angst smothering his once eager face. Even the slightest mention of that man discomforted him. "What did you have to do? Meet someone again? Even more werewolf stuff? Or...Diabolus?" "The first one," the vampire said, glaring ahead as they followed a dirt path out of the town and towards a small forest. The bard eyed him sceptically. "Did you...have a date, Vuuren?" "What?" he snapped, looking over at him. "I don't care what it was." A nervous laugh broke free of Elvin's sigh. "Yeah, true. Well, whatever it was—probably not a date...I want all the details when we get back home. I feel like this might be one for my manuscript." "If you are failing as a bard, what makes you think someone is going to want to publish your manuscript?" the vampire questioned. Elvin shrugged. "I'll make it one day; I gotta find the right angle, you know? And now, with your suggestion of a new name, I might be on my way." "Right," Alucard mumbled, glaring ahead again. "Well, good luck with that." "Aww, Vuuren." Elvin smiled, looking over at him. "You're so supportive." "Am I?" he grumbled, stepping aside before Elvin could place his hand on his shoulder. Elvin frowned in discontent, but then bounced up and down. "Oh, oh, can I write down that little rescue back there? I bet you were chasing that wolf for miles, weren't you? If it weren't for me being there at that exact time, you would have never caught up with it, would you?" Alucard glanced over at him. "That is not what happened at all." "Yeah, but...you told me to switch things up; people don't wanna hear about a scary vampire killing things and saving people, they wanna hear about a mere bard saving a vampire!" "Do they?" he asked doubtfully. As they came out of the other side of the forest and onto a white sand beach, Elvin nodded confidently...but then saddened. "You're always so mean to me, you know," he said with a frown. "Sometimes, I feel like you don't believe in me. I so happen to think this idea would make a great story." "You think everything makes a great story." "Well, it does—if you tell it right." The vampire rolled his eyes. "Wait here for me." "Come on, man, you're making me wait on a beach? What if more werewolves come? Or pirates? I could be mugged!" Alucard looked him up and down. "You wouldn't exactly make a gratifying snack for a wolf, nor do you possess much at all for a pirate to steal." "Wow. Crude as ever—please, can't I come?" he pleaded, holding his hands together. "I'll keep my mouth shut; I'll stand in a little corner and observe. You won't even know I'm there." "No," he refused again. Elvin crossed his arms and pouted stubbornly. "Fine, but if I get eaten, it's on you." "A lot of things are on me these days," he grumbled. "Sit over there," he instructed, nodding over at a single tree. "I won't be long, I just have to talk to them this time." Sighing, Elvin dragged himself over to the tree, slumped down and crossed his arms. Alucard then set his eyes on the open sea ahead. In the distance, a ship was barely visible on the horizon—that was where he needed to go next. Without much falter, he disappeared into vermillion smoke and sped across the water, leaving Elvin on the beach. ⤝❖⤞ | Alucard | Alucard reached the ship. He landed on the deck with a thump and waited impatiently as a tall, sleek man dressed in a black long coat stepped out from the cabin beneath the quarterdeck. Attila, one of Alucard's subordinates. "Long night?" Attila called, his face as vacant as Alucard's. "When is it ever not?" Alucard replied, glaring into the man's crimson eyes, much of his face hidden beneath his coat's hood. He smirked. "What's the news?" "I will be working with a demon," he mumbled irritably, taking his eyes off the man to glare out at the ocean. Just thinking about Zalith aggravated him. "I am moving vampires from another world—Eltaria. They will be staying here in Dor-Sanguis," he explained, slowly setting his eyes back on the man. "There won't be enough space here soon enough, so we need to hurry up and re-establish the empire I had before I disappeared back then. The Nosferatu needs to resurface" The man nodded. "Don't worry, I've got the king eating out of my hands." "Make him beg," Alucard mumbled. "He will not be our friend; he will work for me, not with me." "Of course," the man said, bowing apologetically. "I suspect the wolves are up to something, too. I just found one hunting the bard in Wrodiff. I will be heading to my castle tonight to tell my vampires to be cautious, so you should do the same." A look of concern sat upon Attila's face. "You are concerned greatly. Do you suspect another war?" "I really hope it doesn't come to that. I will get to the bottom of it." Attila then smirked. "Does it make you miss the simpler times, Alucard?" He looked over at him and frowned. "This treaty you have worked so hard for—you wouldn't have had to if our kind decided to stay hidden from the world." Alucard sighed. "There are some that might agree, but I do not. I believe it is better for the world to know about us and learn to live with us—less superstition and mysterious deaths that way, no?" Attila laughed quietly and nodded. "Of course." "Go," he then said. "I will see you in less than a month, no?" "I'll see you then." ⏎ Back to Nosferatu ▶ Next Chapter

Back to Arcana Bestiary Index Back to Arcana Bestiary Categories Moonsoak Salamire Moonsoak Salamire ◈ Quick Stats ◈ Fie⌊d ʍage$ $⊥i⌊⊥racking ∇he $ouɼce... Preferred Habitat Field Notes ʍi$si∩₲ ⥏n∫or₥₳tion. ɍeco∨eɍy ⓔxpe¢⊥ed $oo∩... Tɍαn$ℓa⊥iθ∩ øƒ $¢Ɽip⊥ ⍴en∂inǥ. ⊂he¢k ⊏a¢k ∩ex⊥ ⓛunaɍ ¢y¢ℓe... ʍi$si∩₲ ⥏n∫or₥₳tion. ɍeco∨eɍy ⓔxpe¢⊥ed $oo∩... Size and Mass ∪ndeɼ s¢hθ∩αɼly Ɽe∨ieω. ⊔pdα⊥ed en⊢ɍy ⓔxpe¢⊥ed $oo∩... Tracking Signs ⍴age ∪∩ɍeco∨eɍabℓe—øɍiginaⱠ ⊥ex⊥ beℓie∨e∂ ¢o∩sumed ⊏y sen⊥ie∩⊥ i∩k. ɍeco∨eɍy ⓔxpe¢⊥ed $oo∩... Repellent Methods ∪ndeɼ s¢hθ∩αɼly Ɽe∨ieω. ⊔pdα⊥ed en⊢ɍy ⓔxpe¢⊥ed $oo∩... - Previous Next -

Back to Arcana Bestiary Index Back to Arcana Bestiary Categories Fenclasp Skulk Slick-skinned and hunched, it drags prey beneath the water with prehensile tongue-barbs. ◈ Quick Stats ◈ Fie⌊d ʍage$ $⊥i⌊⊥racking ∇he $ouɼce... Preferred Habitat Field Notes ʍi$si∩₲ ⥏n∫or₥₳tion. ɍeco∨eɍy ⓔxpe¢⊥ed $oo∩... Tɍαn$ℓa⊥iθ∩ øƒ $¢Ɽip⊥ ⍴en∂inǥ. ⊂he¢k ⊏a¢k ∩ex⊥ ⓛunaɍ ¢y¢ℓe... ʍi$si∩₲ ⥏n∫or₥₳tion. ɍeco∨eɍy ⓔxpe¢⊥ed $oo∩... Size and Mass ∪ndeɼ s¢hθ∩αɼly Ɽe∨ieω. ⊔pdα⊥ed en⊢ɍy ⓔxpe¢⊥ed $oo∩... Tracking Signs ⍴age ∪∩ɍeco∨eɍabℓe—øɍiginaⱠ ⊥ex⊥ beℓie∨e∂ ¢o∩sumed ⊏y sen⊥ie∩⊥ i∩k. ɍeco∨eɍy ⓔxpe¢⊥ed $oo∩... Repellent Methods ∪ndeɼ s¢hθ∩αɼly Ɽe∨ieω. ⊔pdα⊥ed en⊢ɍy ⓔxpe¢⊥ed $oo∩... - Previous Next -

< Back Nymeris Baek-Neugdae Other names: ? Situation/Profession: ? Born: ? Zodiac: ? Age: ? Height: ? Species: ? Bloodline: ? Previous Next

CHAPTER THREE ー ⊰ ✟ ⊱ ー THE CAUSE | Elvin | Elvin scribbled in his notebook, glancing over at the boat in the distance every so often while he waited for the vampire to return. But as each moment passed, he grew more and more impatient. He slammed his notebook shut and tucked it into his pocket along with his quill. What could be taking Alucard so long? Why did he have to fly over to some ship? Who was he talking to? The bard rolled his eyes and pouted, resting his chin on his knees as he wrapped his arms around his legs. How much longer was he going to have to wait? It was cold, damp, and miserable. He wanted to go home; he wanted to hear about what Alucard had been up to tonight. The bard pondered. Alucard told him to come up with a new name for him; many people knew the vampire as Vuuren—pretty much everyone called him that. There had been times Elvin heard people call him Alucard, but he rarely let anyone use that name. Vladimirescu was the name Damien called him by, so Elvin wouldn't use that. A totally new name: he'd think of something eventually. Alucard suddenly emerged on the beach with an aggravated look on his pale face. Elvin pounced to his feet. "So?" he asked excitedly. "How did it go?" The vampire glanced at him and rolled his eyes. "Fantastic," he grumbled. He frowned at Alucard's answer and followed him along the beach. "Are you going to tell me about your night? What happened?" he asked eagerly. "Stuff," he muttered, following the stone path that led away from the beach. The bard pouted and stared ahead, following Alucard in silence as they approached a tall, black-brick manor in the distance. It consisted of a four-story building standing within its centre, two smaller sections made up of two. The black-tiled roofs were tall, sharp and pointed, sinister shadows creeping across the flat-grass lawn, shrouding the majority of it in darkness. Every light within the rectangular-shaped windows was off, the only light coming from the six moons above. A large city sat a few miles in the distance, its glow emanating through the grassy hills. The collection of trees the pair had earlier walked through was a small cut of a much larger forest that surrounded the huge, vast area of open grassland, separating it from the rest of the world. Black, nightmarish mountains towered in the distance, bestowing a dark shadow over the manor up ahead, cobblestone walls surrounding its grounds. They reached the black steel gates which sat between the walls, and as they opened, Alucard led the way through the grounds towards the manor's doors. "Okay, what stuff?" Elvin then asked, hoping that his few minutes of silence would help get the vampire to answer his questions. Alucard rolled his eyes and snarled irritably. "I met some demon." "A demon? But...demons and vampires are enemies; that's like getting you to meet a werewolf." "Well, I'm supposed to be helping him move some vampires from his world to this one." "You're bringing vampires from some other world...to this one?" He nodded, reaching the manor's black front door. "Is...it really a good idea to bring more vampires here? It's only been six months since you outran the Diabolus—what if they find you again? What will you do with all these vampires?" Alucard sighed. "The Diabolus won't find me here; the last place they would expect to find me is living among humans." Elvin reached into his pocket and pulled out his notebook. "True...." He nodded but then shuffled around excitedly. "A whole new world?!" he squealed, scribbling onto the paper as he followed the vampire into his house. "What was it like? Was it like Alvenguard? Was it magical?" "One moon," Alucard said with a shrug, taking off his cloak, hanging it on the coat rack. "Some...eroded castle, not much to see." Nodding, Elvin followed him through the dark entrance hall and into a lounge. "And these vampires; why do you have to bring them here?" Alucard clicked his fingers, the candles lined around the room atop each shelf instantly lighting with small flickering flames. He then slumped down onto the black-leather, red-cushioned couch. He rested his right leg over the arm and looked over at Elvin as he slowly sat in the same-styled armchair opposite him. He took a moment to rest, looking around the black-adorned room. All the furniture was dark in colour and looked to be antique. The walls were black with oak-brown panelling lined around them; the front wall possessed three tall, arched windows, lantern-like lights hanging from the wall space between each of them. The vampire looked over at Elvin. "Damien wants to undermine his brother, Letholdus." "The...god?" Elvin frowned, looking over at him. He nodded and looked over at the silent fireplace. "The first step in doing so would be to fill this world with ethos that is not of his origin, therefore not of his control. So, we are starting vith these vampires. He has me helping some demon that apparently wants to help the vampires of his world because they were loyal to him throughout a war. Now, I have this night and half of tomorrow to find somevhere to put them and to try and hurry up this treaty I have been working on with the humans of the city." Nodding, Elvin scribbled in his notebook as Alucard spoke. "The human-vampire cohabitation treaty?" The vampire nodded. "Da." "I don't know if they'll hurry that up...so, you're helping a demon transport vampires from another world to this world because Damien wants to overthrow his brother, aka, the god of this world. Well, they're not really brothers, are they? These god people just call each other brother and sister—kinda weird. Anyway, why does Damien wanna overthrow Letholdus?" he asked, looking over at the vampire. Alucard shrugged and flicked his hand, the fireplace lighting with fire as crimson as his hair. "Damien hates his siblings, he wants to be on top; nothing more to it, really." "He wants to be in charge...so he's gonna...what? What's he doing once he has ethos that isn't Letholdus' in this world?" Looking over at him, Alucard shrugged again. "Outside ethos will corrupt the ethos here. The more there is, the more damage is done. I gather that Damien wants to weaken Letholdus and then kill 'im." Elvin wrote it down. "Kinda barbaric." "Eh, not my problem. Gods will do what gods want to do," he grumbled, staring into the fire. The bard then looked over at him. "So, are you gonna do it? Help the demon?" Alucard sighed. "What choice do I have? Damien asked me to do it; I can't exactly say no." Scribbling in his book once more, Elvin nodded and looked back over at him. "What about this demon?" he asked with a smirk. "He? She? What was it like?" The vampire scowled. "Must you know?" "Well, yeah. I need all the details. How else am I supposed to write this book? Could this book...possibly become a story of romance?" he teased. "A love triangle!" Rolling his eyes, he glared back into the fire. "Insufferable, stuck up businessman type; suit, blazer thing...I think he had a tie. I actually met him first outside a tavern; seems like Damien sent him to meet me on his own—I don't know why he thought that would work." "What happened?" "I told him to fuck off." Elvin sighed, but there was amusement in his voice when he said, "Oh, Vuuren. Perfect description, though. Love that." He wrote it down. "Seems like Damien loves him," the vampire grumbled. Elvin then stopped writing and looked over at Alucard. "From what I've heard, I really don't think that creature of a man could ever love anyone; he probably loves the fact that this demon guy does what he's told," he assumed. "Da," Alucard mumbled. "Okay, do you have a plan?" The vampire looked over at him. "For what?" "The whole...moving vampires from there to here thing." "What is there to plan? Go there, bring them here. Simple." "Okay, but where will they live? You haven't got the treaty sorted yet with the humans in the city, so they can't exactly live there, can they?" "My castle, I guess." Writing it down, Elvin nodded. "And the treaty?" "I'll try and sort that tomorrow; humans sleep the night away like babies," he grumbled. "So, you'll use tonight to prepare the castle, I assume?" "Da," he confirmed. Elvin smiled. "See, why can't you be like this all the time? You only seem to answer me when I'm asking for the book—you really do believe in me, don't you?" He grinned from ear to ear. Alucard rolled his eyes. The Bard sighed and closed his notebook. "Well, are you okay?" he then asked, concern in his voice. Alucard frowned, glancing over at him. "Why would I not be?" The bard shrugged. "I worry about you; you never really talk about how you feel, and you always look miserable when you get back from seeing Damien." "Don't you have a home to get to?" Alucard dismissed. Elvin frowned. "Well...yeah, but...don't you want me to help you tonight? I don't really have anything else to do." "No," Alucard denied. "Go home." The bard stood up and sighed. "Will you let me get chased by wolves? Attacked by pirates? Walk me home...please?" he pleaded. The vampire looked over at him. "No, no, and no," he grumbled, scowling. "Sergiu is outside with the carriage; tell him I told him to take you home." "Mean," Elvin mumbled as he turned around, heading for the door. "Where should I find you tomorrow?" he asked, looking back over his shoulder at the vampire. "The city, outside the house of commons," he instructed, looking over at him. Sighing, Elvin turned around and made his way over to the door. As he left, he glanced back at Alucard, watching him as he made himself comfortable on the couch. He was worried about him—he knew how much Alucard despised Damien. But as much as he wanted to try and be there for him, he knew Alucard didn't want his company right now. Elvin knew him well enough to know that he wanted to be left alone for the rest of the night. With a pout on his face, Elvin pulled the door shut behind him and started searching the courtyard for Sergiu. ⤝❖⤞ | Alucard | As the bard left, Alucard looked back into the fire. Tonight hadn't been what he expected. This was the first time Damien sent an associate to find him on their own, and the first time he'd forced Alucard to work side-by-side with someone, too. At least all their working together involved was meeting to drop off and pick up the vampires, though. Alucard was glad, however, that he didn't have to see Damien alone. The last thing he wanted was to be in that creature's presence by himself. But the meeting had been somewhat humiliating; this new demon—Zalith—clearly thought that Alucard was incompetent and that he couldn't do what Damien asked of him. But Alucard was undoubtedly going to prove them both wrong. There had never been a time he failed at a task—not since...then. But he didn't want to think about that. Then, he scowled. Zalith had mentioned 'the cause'—what was the cause? He hadn't been made aware of any cause, something that the demon seemed to be familiar with alongside Damien. Clearly, Alucard had been left out of something once again. Did he care, though? Yes, he did. Damien made sure to always involve the vampire in some way or another. So, why hadn't he been told what this cause was? Not only did he have that to worry about now, but it looked like the werewolves were testing the waters. They hadn't set foot in any of Dor-Sanguis' towns or villages ever since he'd scared them off, so why had one been brave enough to hunt in Wrodiff tonight? He hoped it was just a stray desperate for food, but part of him knew things could never be that simple. The wolves were up to something...and he needed to find out before someone was killed—that would ruin everything he'd been working so hard for. "Don't you have a job to do?" came Damien's harrowing voice. Startled by his appearance, Alucard sat up straight and looked back over his shoulder. "Vampires need moving," Damien said, standing behind him. He made his way over and slumped down in the chair Elvin had been sitting in. "And yet, you sit around here like some useless fool. Not a surprise, though." He sighed, tapping his claws on the arm of the chair. Staring over at him, Alucard frowned cautiously. "I will be starting tomorrow; I need time to prepare a place for them to stay." Nodding slowly, Damien glared at him. "You still keep that human around—why?" "He's...my familiar," Alucard answered. "Hmm...." He nodded. "You tell him an awful lot, don't you?" "He's writing a novel." Damien scoffed. "Pointless frivolity. To sit somewhere for hours looking at written words when you can simply speak from memory. Human minds don't have such a capacity, though. Do you, Vladimirescu?" he asked as a smirk crept across his face. Keeping his eyes on the Daegelus, Alucard frowned slightly, unsure whether he was meant to answer or not. But Damien then sighed. "You heard Zalith and I mention the cause; I suppose I should tell you since I'll be needing you for it." "What is it?" he asked—he wasn't surprised Damien knew he was thinking about it. The Daegelus never requested permission to peer into one's mind. The Daegelus grinned and grabbed his shirt—Alucard did his best not to panic...and stared into his eyes. "If you speak a word of this to anyone...." His eyes wandered down to Alucard's chest. "It's a fascinating organ—the proselytes. It gives you mortal creatures the ability to harness the energy you were graced to have been born with. I've heard it's such a painful existence to have had one...and then to have lost it." Alucard understood his threat. "I won't tell anyvone." Damien scowled and let go of him. Then, he looked over at the fireplace. "I want everything my siblings have. I want access to their bloodlines; I want dominion over what they have come to make, to build, to own. I want all of it, and to do so, I need to possess their blood, their ethos, and I've found a way to do so." The vampire frowned. "You said that one day you would initiate the creation of another Daegelus—a child." He nodded. "Yes, I will need to create another creature quite like myself—another Daegelus. But when I do so, I will carefully craft into it everything I will need. I will make sure it possesses the blood of each of my siblings, the ethos of everything and everyone that I require. And then, when it has grown, I will simply absorb it, thus gaining everything it possesses, granting myself what I need." "Why do you need me?" "I need four fathers." "What?" "Four males of each bloodline—Lucifer's, Lilith's, Ephriel's, and Erich's. You so happen to be Lucifer's son, so what better choice for Lucifer's bloodline? Yes, you are incompetent, insufferable, but I simply have no other better choice. Zalith is of Lilith's bloodline. I am in search of an angel from Ephriel's, and I have one in mind. Then one of Erich's. Once I have found them, we will all meet to discuss preparations." "And...I gather you need a mother, too? For this child." "Yes," Damien answered, looking over at him. "Whilst you assist Zalith, I will be searching for a suitable mother—do you have any more stupid questions?" "No," he said, looking away from Damien's evil stare. Damien then smirked. "I have heard of an angel sent by my sister to keep an eye on Letholdus. I have thought about asking him—I will steal him from Ephriel, as I have stolen you from my brother." Alucard glanced over at him. "Now, get to work. I want those vampires in this world by this time next year, as I said. If you falter, you'll suffer." As Damien stood up, a look of angst appeared on Alucard's face. "I won't fail." "Good." The Daegelus smiled, placing his hand on Alucard's shoulder, digging his claws into it. The vampire scowled, keeping his eyes focused on the fire. "Remember what I have taught you, Vladimirescu, and don't let me down—again," he warned, letting go of his shoulder. Then, as Damien left as silently as he had arrived, Alucard stared sullenly, watching the flames within the fireplace. At least now he knew what this cause was—the cause that Zalith had mentioned. Damien was planning to create another Daegelus; he wanted to give it the blood of all the other Eternal Gods so that he may absorb it, thus absorbing the power he would give it. What was he going to do once he had access to the other Eternals' bloodlines? He knew that Damien wanted to kill Letholdus; that had to be why he didn't want someone possessing that Eternal's blood—if there were even any people out there descended from Letholdus. But what were his plans for his other siblings? Did he want to kill them, too? Or did he really just want access to their lineage? It wasn't really Alucard's problem—or his business. He had to do what he was told, and that was all he knew. He stood up and waved his hand, all of the flames within the fireplace withering. He made his way over to the door, irritably snatched his cape and left, setting out to begin preparations for the new task he had been given. ⏎ Back to Nosferatu ➲ Want to read a little more? Chapters 1-10 are available on Wattpad!

Shop | Books and Merch Welcome to T. Csernis' books and merch store! If you are new to the Numenverse, specifically The Numen Chronicles series, ensure you read the sample chapters to decide which edition you'd prefer! Alternatively, you can check out the accent guide using the button below. ➤ Accent Guide ➤ Buy on Smashwords ➤ Series Trigger Warning List ➤ Or buy directly through IngramSpark! ➤ Read samples ➤ See all books on Amazon Please note that Amazon experiences difficulties separating editions. If one edition isn't showing all 3 formats, try the other edition and click "see all formats and editions" - you'll find the other editions' formats there THE NUMEN CHRONICLES | VOLUME One NOSFERATU • Book 1 of the Numen Chronicles • Alucard's a reclusive, former god-hunting vampire lord. Zalith's a promiscuous warlord who comes from old money and an ancient demon bloodline. When the pair meet, Alucard's quiet life is turned upside down, and Zalith's 600 years of meaningless conquests appear to be at their end. Original Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites No Accent Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites THE NUMEN CHRONICLES | VOLUME TWO DEMON'S FATE • Book 2 of the Numen Chronicles • Determined to protect the man he loves, Zalith declares war on the Numen. However, he soon learns that Damien wasn't the only God contending to be Alucard's ruler. Original Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites No Accent Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites THE NUMEN CHRONICLES | VOLUME THREE LIGHT • Book 3 of the Numen Chronicles • When Zalith's attempt to save what remains of his people fails, he resorts to a last-ditch effort to get them to safety. But will his desperation to save them end with him losing everything he loves? Original Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites No Accent Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites THE NUMEN CHRONICLES | VOLUME FOUR DEMON'S BANE • Book 4 of the Numen Chronicles • When a swarm of disease-carrying insects plunges Nefastus into catastrophe, Alucard and Zalith have no choice but to flee their home. But something is on their trail, and making it out of the country alive might not be as easy as they thought. Original Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites No Accent Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites THE NUMEN CHRONICLES COMPANION STORIES | BOOK ONE FORBIDDEN BOND • A Numen Chronicles Companion Story • After watching Luther choose Varana over him yet again, heartbroken Danford makes the painful decision to leave the Yule party and spend the holidays in solitude. But as he slips away into the night, an unexpected encounter with Freja, the powerful and alluring Luna of his pack, changes everything. Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites THE NUMEN CHRONICLES | VOLUME FIVE ASCENDANT • Book 5 of the Numen Chronicles • As Lilith's plague spreads and her hunt draws closer, Alucard and Zalith fortify Uzlia, rallying their forces and searching for the Pandorican--the one thing they need before they can kill her. But with hostile elves and a corrupt city lord, securing their home proves just as crucial as waging war against the Numen. Original Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites No Accent Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites THE NUMEN CHRONICLES | INTERLUDE STORY SILVER CLAW • A Numen Chronicles Interlude Story • As a deadly bounty hunter closes in and betrayal festers within the Atheson coven, Vampire Lord Alucard must uncover the truth before war erupts. But with his heat rising and forgotten memories awakening, desire may prove just as dangerous as the enemy at the Sanctum gates. Original Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites No Accent Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites THE NUMEN CHRONICLES | INTERLUDE STORY HUNT FOR NIEDREID • A Numen Chronicles Interlude Story • To forge the armour needed to stand against the Numen, Alucard and Zalith hunt an Aegis. But within hours of fighting a demi-god, they are dragged into a labyrinth of snow fiends, spider queens, and a bargain with an angel better left forgotten. Original Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites No Accent Edition Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites THE GREYKIN CHRONICLES | VOLUME ONE GREYKIN MOUNTAIN • Book 1 of the Greykin Chronicles • When investigating the disappearance of seven fellow journalists, Jackson discovers Ascela's mountains hide more than wolf walkers and undead monsters. Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites THE GREYKIN CHRONICLES | VOLUME TWO GREYKIN VALLEY • Book 2 of the Greykin Chronicles • On a mission to cure the deadly, mutating virus, Jackson and Daimon's pack face monsters, hunters, and hostile packs, but Jackson's battle is twofold-one for survival and another for the truth of his own identity and the mysterious bond testing fate's boundaries, a bond that may not belong to Daimon alone. Buy on Amazon Buy on other sites MERCH SHOP Check out Numenverse merchandise! ➲ GO TO MERCH SHOP

< Back Attila Dorn Other names: ? Situation/Profession: ? Born: ? Zodiac: ? Age: ? Height: ? Species: ? Bloodline: ? Previous Next

< Back Zalith Eladarin Lilithkin, Silas Wright, The Zenith Zenith of the Nosferatu Demon Kingdom Born: Primis 18th 333(TG) Zodiac: Capricorn Age: 627 (looks 30, stopped ageing at 29) Height: 191cm (6ft3) Species: Incubus Bloodline: Lilidian Previous Next

⇤ Back to Centuries ⏎ Back to Lore: History, 601-700 601(TG) - 700(TG) The History of Boszorkány: The Century of Fracture This was a century carved by faith and fire. Between 600(TG) and 700(TG), Boszorkány was thrust into relentless upheaval—its once-stable provinces torn apart by religious reform, supernatural tension, and the brutal rise of competing ideologies. Here, you’ll uncover a detailed timeline of the Severent uprisings, the Lethidian Purge Years, and the Boszorkian Wars of Faith, including pivotal massacres, sieges, and political betrayals that reshaped the kingdom. This century also marks the birth of influential covens, growing resistance among arcane factions, and the shifting identity of the Boszorkian crown. Select from the entries below to explore how Boszorkány bled, burned, and rebuilt during one of the most defining centuries in its history. Lethidian Loyalist Soldiers 600(TG) - Faurent I became King and patron of the arts Faurent I began an era of cultural flourishing by inviting artists like Leontel da Virelli to court. This initiated the Boszorkian Age of Grace and a surge in royal-funded architecture, literature, and painting. 602(TG)-625(TG) - The Architectural Bloom of the Domaines d'Éclat during the Boszorkian Age of Grace of Grace Dozens of lavish Domaines d'Eclat rose across the countryside. The structures combined Gothic tradition with new Age of Grace aesthetics, showcasing the wealth and shifting tastes of the nobility. 615(TG) Foundation of the Collegium de Boszorkany Founded by Faurent I as an alternative to the Sanctum Ardentis, the Collegium of Miréfalle was established to promote humanist education, secular scholarship, and intellectual freedom. Intended as a bastion of Age of Grace thought, it quickly became a centre for linguistic studies, mathematics, philosophy, and emerging scientific disciplines, welcoming scholars from across the realm to lecture publicly without doctrinal constraint. 619(TG) - The Night of the Heretic Scripts In the autumn of 619(TG), the city of Miréfalle and several major Boszorkian provincial capitals awoke to a scandal that would shatter the fragile harmony of the Renaissance. Dozens of anti-Lethidian manifestos — later known collectively as the Heretic Scripts-had been affixed overnight to temple doors, council halls, and even the gates of the High Flamekeeper's private sanctum. Penned in bold, confrontational prose, these documents denounced Lethidian doctrine as a fabrication, accusing the priesthood of distorting divine history and suppressing arcane truth. The scripts were the work of a clandestine faction known as the Severents, who had recently uncovered a buried pre-Year Zero temple during a settlement expedition. Within its ruins, they discovered murals, wall etchings, and ancient texts that directly contradicted Church ortodoxy. These records painted a far older and darker origin story: that Letholdus, rather than a benevolent Flame of purity, had torn the veil between realms and flooded the world with ethos to assert dominion, not to bless it. The Severents believed the Book of Lore was a censored version of a greater, forgotten work: the Ninefold Testamentum, which honoured multiple deities and treated ethos as sacred inheritance, not sin. Most incendiary of all was a script nailed directly to the chamber doors of High Flamekeeper Armand Valnoire, an act deemed both treasonous and blasphemous. Though the authors remained unnamed, the language and theological tone bore unmistakable Severent influence, particularly in their alignment with Arcana tolerance and human-nonhuman parity. The Church's retaliation was immediate and brutal. Arrests, public burnings, and forced recantations swept through Miréfalle and beyond. In the following weeks, entire communities suspected of harbouring Script-bearers were razed, while Severents—real or accused—were tortured, exiled, or executed. What had once been whispered reform spiralled into open persecution. Historians mark the Night of the Heretic Scripts as the definitive end of Boszorkany's Age of Grace Harmony, and the unofficial beginning of the Lethidian Purge Years, a dark period defined by inquisitorial violence, Arcana suppression, and the systematic enforcement of Lethidian supremacy. The Origins of the Heretic Scripts (Severent Tradition) The roots of the Heretic Scripts—whose sudden appearance in 694(TG) ignited the Lethidian Purge Years—can be traced not to a fiery preacher or public martyrdom, but to a quiet, unauthorized expedition deep into the inland forests of southern Boszorkány. According to Severent oral tradition and recovered documents, a small group of pioneers and archivists, unaffiliated with Church or state, ventured beyond chartered lands in 690(TG), seeking isolated terrain to establish an Arcana-neutral settlement. What they found instead was a partially buried structure of impossible age-predating Year Zero, and thus predating the official Lethidian chronology of the world. Within the ruined sanctum were crumbling murals, ritual texts etched into stone, and fragmented tomes written in a script that could only be understood through True Speech; it was translated by an unnamed advisor and ally to the Severents, but considering that only ancient beings can understand the language, it is speculated that their ally was a very old Caeleste, perhaps of pre-Year Zero origin. The records spoke not of Letholdus as the Flame-bringer and purifier of mankind, but as a cosmic invader, a force who tore the void between realms and poured ethos into the world as a weapon. The murals showed celestial bodies cracking, divine wars between Numen, and a cycle of creation and conquest—one in which humanity was never meant to be the chosen, but the chained. Most damning were the fragments that claimed the Book of Lore—central to the Lethidian faith—was a redacted version of a much older, multi-faith text known only as The Ninefold Testamentum, which spoke of many gods, not one, and described ethos not as sin, but as divine inheritance. The scholars who translated the writings—later calling themselves Severents, those who had "severed from the false Flame"—believed the Lethidian Church had, for centuries, buried the truth and manipulated history. In their view, the Church's hatred of ethos, its genocidal stance towards non-humans, and its doctrine of human supremacy were all tools of control, built on the deliberate erasure of origin truths. In the final months of 693(TG), Severent agents produced copies of a dozen manifestos summarizing the discovery. These texts, known now as the Heretic Scripts, were never meant to incite war, but to awaken dissent. On a single night, they were plastered across Miréfalle and other cities by candlelight and shadow. One was even nailed to the door of the High Flamekeeper's private chamber. The Church's response was immediate and absolute. Within days, fires burned in every major square. Severents were hunted, ethos practitioners were condemned by association, and the discovery site was razed and officially erased from Church records. But the spark had caught. The Heretic Scripts became more than protest, they became heresy with proof. And for the first time since the rise of the Lethidian Church, its narrative was not only challenged, but fractured. 620(TG) – Development of Modern Fortification Design (Star Forts) In response to advancements in artillery, engineers began redesigning city walls and castles. This architectural shift spread through Rhenovaalis and affected both human and Caeleste settlements. 621(TG)–644(TG) – Surge in Anatomical Studies Influenced by Vensar's work, Boszorkian physicians began dissecting cadavers more openly despite Church restrictions. This led to medical progress in surgery and internal anatomy. 623(TG) – Translation of Maelidon of Ælan’s Dialogues into Boszorkian Humanist thinkers began translating major Atheek works, making philosophical texts accessible to the educated public. These translations helped challenge old theological dogma and promote secular reasoning. 634(TG) – Corbinien du Clavellé’s “The Shield and Quill: On Language and Legacy” A call to elevate Boszorkian as a literary language on par with Old Deiganish and Atheek. This text reshaped national identity and encouraged poets and scholars to write in their native tongue. 635(TG)–665(TG) – Rise of the Boszorkian Essay Montaignel invented the personal essay as a genre. His works reflect on morality, 'humanity', and doubt, influencing philosophical thought for generations. 637(TG) – First Boszorkian Psalter Published in Verse The Severent Psaltery, translated into Boszorkian poetic verse, became a staple in Severent households. It merged religion and art in a culturally influential way that also fueled religious identity. 647(TG) - 683(TG) – The Boszorkian Wars of Faith The Boszorkian Wars of Faith, fought between 647(TG) and 683(TG), were a devastating series of internal conflicts between loyalists of the Lethidian Church and the rising faction of reformists known as the Severents. Though driven by theological division, the wars became deeply entangled with noble rivalries, regional governance, and the question of Arcana legitimacy, drawing mages, non-human sympathizers, and entire provinces into their wake. The first open conflict erupted after the Massacre of Varsé, when Lethidian soldiers attacked a gathering of unarmed Severents in a barn, killing dozens. This brutal display of religious intolerance catalyzed retaliation across the countryside, and from 647(TG) onward, Boszorkány fractured into a patchwork of occupied cities, divided loyalties, and shifting alliances. Key events throughout the Wars of Faith included: ◈ Massacre of Varsé 656(TG) ―●The event that triggered widespread violence between Lethidian adherents and Severents. ◈ Blood-Stained Reprisals 661(TG)–662(TG) ―●In the years following the Varsé Massacre, covert Caeleste retaliation escalated. The most infamous involved the infiltration and engineered collapse of a noble Lethidian house that had executed two Adherent Vampires. Though never confirmed, most historians agree that Fane de Montclairis and his early circle were responsible. ◈ The Siege of Rounelais 647(TG) ―●A drawn-out and bloody conflict where royal Lethidian forces besieged a Severent stronghold. ◈ The Battle of Dravaux 647(TG) ―●One of the earliest full-scale engagements, ending in a Lethidian victory but with heavy noble casualties. ◈ The Siege of Osámore 648(TG) ―●A critical turning point in the first war, ending with the assassination of the Lethidian commander, shifting momentum briefly to the Severents. ◈ The St. Beryx’s Day Massacre 657(TG) ―●The most infamous atrocity of the period, in which thousands of Severents were hunted and executed in the streets of Miréfalle over several days, sanctioned by the Crown and Flamekeeper. ◈ The Siege of La Roshéline 657(TG)–658(TG) ―●A lengthy blockade of a Severent stronghold with sympathies to Arcana guilds, marked by starvation and naval conflict. Amidst the siege, a secret burial tunnel—once part of an ancient Velthrenist necropolis—was used to evacuate select reformist leaders. At the time, their mysterious protectors were the subject of rumour and speculation. Only years later, with the formal rise of the Miréfalle Coven, was it confirmed that Fane de Montclairis and two of his prospective vampires had orchestrated the operation. Among those rescued was an arcane scribe whose later writings helped establish the foundations of Severent post-war theology. Faint vampiric warding glyphs can still be found carved into tombstones outside the city, their meanings largely forgotten. ◈ The Redlight Accord 665(TG)–667(TG) ―●In the aftermath of the Saint Beryx’s Day Massacre, amidst widespread instability and factional violence, a series of covert meetings took place within a known Arcana-tolerant quarter of Miréfalle, informally referred to as the Redlight Veil. The discussions were attended by select Severent and Lethidian nobles disillusioned with the ongoing purges and seeking a temporary cessation of hostilities. ―●Though the identities of those who facilitated the meetings remain unknown, later records suggest the involvement of unidentified Caeleste. Among them was Fane de Montclairis, whose future position as Coven Master of Miréfalle was not yet public. Under his coordination, Arcana warding and blood-encoded runes were employed to enable the discreet transport of texts, coinage, and individuals, particularly those at risk of persecution. ―●While no formal treaty was ever signed, the resulting understanding—now referred to by Severent scholars as the Redlight Accord—enabled the temporary suspension of raids within certain territories and allowed for the relocation of Severent intellectual and financial resources beyond Boszorkian borders. ◈ Day of the Heretics’ Stand (Lethidian name) / Day of the Miréfalle Blockade 673(TG) ―●A popular uprising in Miréfalle that temporarily overthrew the crown's authority and revealed the deep fractures within Lethidian leadership itself. ◈ The War of the Three Heryons 672(TG)–674(TG) ―●A complex triangle of rival claims to the throne, all backed by different religious factions, ultimately ending with the ascension of King Heryon IV, who would later end the wars through calculated compromise. The wars formally ended with the Edict of Hollowlight 683(TG), issued by Heryon IV, which granted Severents conditional religious freedoms and the right to hold certain fortified cities. Though this truce brought formal peace, the trauma of the Wars of Faith would define Boszorkian political life for generations, and further entrench the growing influence of Caeleste actors who had aided or sheltered the Severents throughout the conflict. 649(TG) – Introduction of the Lethidian Calendar Reforms in Boszorkány Though not officially adopted until later, divinics and scholars began advocating for calendar reform to correct the Primayear errors. This sparked debate between religious and scientific authorities. 656(TG) – First Boszorkian Printing Press in Miréfalle The first major press dedicated to secular literature was opened, publishing translated philosophical and Arcanean texts. It accelerated the spread of reformist and Arcana ideas. 657(TG) – Supernova Observation by Tychriel Vosmaen (Visible from Boszorkány) The bright supernova contradicted the Kedrian belief that the heavens were unchanging. Observers in Boszorkány, including divinics and philosophers, debated its significance for divine and natural order. 657(TG) – Saint Beryx’s Day Massacre Also known as the Massacre of the Severents In the final days of Tria 657(TG), Miréfalle became the epicenter of one of the most infamous religious atrocities in Boszorkian history. What was intended as a moment of reconciliation between the Lethidian Crown and the Protestant Severents quickly unraveled into a state-sanctioned massacre that would reverberate throughout Rhenovaalis. The violence began shortly after the wedding of Heryon of Varethaine, a prominent Severent leader and heir to the throne of Varethaine, and Maerisse de Valaire, sister to King Charemond IX. Orchestrated by Catheraïs de Virethra, the Queen Mother, the union was meant to foster peace between the two religious factions. It drew thousands of Severent nobles and supporters to Miréfalle to celebrate the royal alliance. But just days after the ceremony, in the early morning of Tria 24th, St. Beryx’s Day, the city bells rang out a different signal. Under cover of darkness and the King’s command, Lethidian militias and armed mobs stormed Severent lodgings across Miréfalle. The first to fall was Admiral Rhéon II de Caelvanthe, a leading Severent figure who had already survived an assassination attempt days prior. The violence quickly spiraled beyond the capital. Over the following days, massacres erupted in other cities—Osámore, Méralune, Vordreaux, Fontisère, Seraveux, and more. Severent men, women, and children were slaughtered in the streets, in their homes, and even in churches where they had sought refuge. Estimates of the dead in Miréfalle alone ranged between 2,000 to 3,000, with national casualties possibly exceeding 10,000. Although King Charemond IX later claimed he acted to prevent an alleged Severent coup, most historians agree the massacre was orchestrated at the highest levels of the royal court, with Catheraïs de Virethra playing a central role. The St. Beryx’s Day Massacre ended any hope of peaceful coexistence between Lethidiabs and Severents. Protestant nations across Rhenovaalis were horrified. In DeiganLupus, Queen Seralyne I wore mourning black in court. In Rome, The High Flamekeeper celebrated the massacre with a Flamekeeper’s Praise and commissioned a medal to commemorate the event. This watershed moment deepened the divisions in Boszorkány's Wars of Faith, reigniting civil war and hardening sectarian lines. It remains one of the most chilling examples of religious violence in Rhenovaalisean history, a massacre born of betrayal, intolerance, and calculated power. 675(TG) – Compound Microscope Invented (disputed) Though officially credited to Sinéadian scientists, Boszorkian scholars began experimenting with magnifying lenses and claimed early prototypes. It laid groundwork for observational study in natural Arcana and medicine. 679(TG) – Heryon IV Enters Miréfalle The year 679(TG) marked a pivotal moment in the closing chapters of the Boszorkian Wars of Faith. On Tertium 22nd, Heryon of Varethaine , now King Heryon IV of Boszorkány, entered Miréfalle, the heart of Lethidian resistance, after a long and bloody struggle for the crown. Having previously been the leader of the Severent faction, Heryon’s legitimacy as king had long been contested by staunch Lethidian forces, especially within the capital. Realizing that continued religious division would tear the kingdom apart, and that military victory alone would not be enough to unify Boszorkány, Heryon made a dramatic and pragmatic decision: in 678(TG), he publicly converted to Lethidism at the Sanctuary of the First Flamebearer. Though many viewed the move as cynical, it was politically brilliant. The infamous phrase attributed to him—“If the cost of peace is devotion, then I shall burn”—captured both the controversy and the strategic wisdom of the act. What few realized was that, in the months leading up to Heryon’s decision, a mysterious and unsigned theological tract had begun circulating through royal and Lethidian circles. Referred to only as 'The Phantom Edict', the document laid out a radical but persuasive justification for religious tolerance, arguing that the ethos-born were not inherently heretical, but instruments of divine balance. Its phrasing mirrored traditional Lethidian scripture so precisely that some believed it had been penned by a lost prophet. The authorship of the tract was never revealed, and even among the Severents, the identity of its writer remained unknown. In whispered reverence, they named the unseen author The Spectre of Miréfalle, a phantom figure believed to haunt the city’s hidden places, guiding reform from the shadows. The text subtly paved the way for Heryon’s conversion to be interpreted not as betrayal, but as spiritual clarity, reframing the act as one of divine insight rather than political compromise. Heryon’s entrance into Miréfalle the following year was not met with violence, but with relief. After decades of civil war, sieges, assassinations, and massacres, the Miréfallians—exhausted and starving—largely welcomed Heryon’s arrival. He was crowned at The Emberhold Basilica (since Ravennes, the city where Boszorkian kings were traditionally crowned, remained under Flamebound League control), solidifying his authority and beginning the arduous task of restoring stability to the fractured nation. This event signaled the waning of the Flamebound League’s power, the decline of ultra-Lethidian dominance in the court, and the start of a new political attitude centered on reconciliation and pragmatism. Heryon’s entrance into Miréfalle laid the foundation for the Edict of Hollowlight 683(TG), which would grant a measure of religious tolerance and bring a formal end to the Wars of Faith. Historians often mark 679(TG) not simply as a military or political turning point, but as the symbolic restoration of royal authority in Boszorkány, ushering in a more moderate monarchy willing to put unity above dogma. Quick Facts Varsé ◈ Full name: Historically referred to as Varsé in Champaraine, now part of Varsé-sous-Drelle in the Haute-Mirenne department of northeastern Boszorkány. ◈ It was a small town, not especially famous—until the Massacre of Varsé in 647(TG) Historical Significance: ◈The Massacre of Varsé marks the start of the Boszorkian Wars of Faith. ◈On Tertium 1st, 647(TG), the Duke of Ghisarre, a powerful Lethidian noble, and his troops attacked a Severent congregation (Boszorkian Protestants) holding a service in a barn. ◈Roughly 50 were killed, with over 100 wounded, sparking decades of civil war between Lethidians and Severents Siege of Rounelais ◈ Date: Late Quintus to Decem 26th, 647(TG) ◈ Conflict: Part of the First War of Faith in Boszorkány. ◈ Factions: Royal Lethidian forces (supporting the monarchy and Lethidian Church) vs. Severent rebels who had taken control of Rounelais. ◈ Location: Rounelais, a major city in Noryssé, and a vital strategic and economic hub in northern Boszorkány. What Happened: ◈ Severents seized control of Rounelais and expelled Lethidian officials, declaring the city a Severent stronghold. ◈ The Boszorkány crown (with help from Aguilian troops sent by Philoré II) laid siege to the city. ◈ Catheraïs de Virethra tried to negotiate a peaceful surrender, but talks failed. ◈ Anvérin de Monvière, King of Varethaine (a Lethidian commander), was mortally wounded during the siege. ◈ After a months-long siege, Rounelais was retaken by Lethidian forces, and brutal reprisals followed, including executions and property seizures. Why It Matters: ◈ It was one of the first major urban engagements in the Wars of Faith. ◈ Demonstrated the Crown’s determination to crush Severent cities. ◈ Set the tone for later bloody sieges like Osámore and La Roshéline. Battle of Dravaux ◈ Date: Clausula 19th, 647(TG) ◈ Conflict: Part of the First Boszorkian War of Faith ◈ Location: Near the town of Dravaux, in northern Boszorkány (Santerre region) What Happened: ◈ One of the first major pitched battles between Lethidian royal forces and Severent rebels. ◈ Commanders: ―◈ Catholics: Duke of Ghisarre and Émirien de Montdaire ―◈ Severents: Archduke Orvain of Caerondé and Admiral Caelvanthe ◈ The Lethidians technically won, but it was a pyrrhic victory: both sides suffered heavy losses, and key leaders were wounded or captured. ◈ Archduke Orvain (Severent) was taken prisoner, and Montdaire (Lethidian) was mortally wounded. Why It Matters: ◈ Highlighted the deep divisions within Boszorkány, both religious and political. ◈ Neither side had the strength to end the conflict outright. ◈ It helped set the tone for years of bloody stalemates, shifting alliances, and fragile truces. ⇤ Previous Next ⇥

< Back Ada Ardelean Other names: ? Situation/Profession: ? Born: ? Zodiac: ? Age: ? Height: ? Species: ? Bloodline: ? Previous Next

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐤 Luan woke to the white of his room, the morning alarms blaring through the hallway. As the red light above his single-windowed door flashed, he sat up in his bed, but he gripped his blanket before it could reveal his chest. With his amber eyes, he stared over at his door. He knew he had only a few minutes before it would open, so he climbed out of bed, a shiver of cold slithering through his body as his bare feet touched the floor. He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, staring at his human skin. Most wolves felt uncomfortable and wrong in their human forms, but Luan felt that no wolf felt as erroneous as he did. His human body didn't match who he was—he felt...trapped. Like something had gone wrong when he was born. With a distraught look on his face, he snatched the piled white bandages from the sink and began hastily wrapping them around his chest, doing his very best to hide the breasts that clung to it. He despised how they looked against his tawny brown skin, but he had to make do with what he had. Once he was done, he pulled on a long-sleeved shirt to mask his curved body and a pair of black trousers. For a moment, he stared at himself, moving his hand up to the white collar sitting around his neck. He wished he could hide that, too. The little red lights on its left side flashed every few seconds, and as Luan dragged his fingers over the grooves where the collar locked together, he uttered a grunt of revolt. He heard the doors in the hall begin to slide open, and he darted out of the bathroom and stood in the centre of his room. He waited, listening. The voices of the guards echoed from down the hall, "One-one-three, one-one-four, one-one-five...." Luan watched as his door slid open, and as the uniformed guard stood on the threshold, his amber eyes wandered down to the pistol holstered at the man's right side. "One-one-six," he said. "Good morning," Luan replied, just as he did every morning. The guard held up his left hand, a small fob between his fingers. He clicked the button on its end, and in response, Luan's collar beeped. Wordlessly, the guard then left. Luan relaxed his shoulders with a quiet sigh. "One-one-seven," came the guard's voice. Caliban's voice followed with, "Good morning." "One-one-eight...." Waiting for the guard to be done with his rounds, Luan lifted his hand to his head and fiddled with his white-black, ear-length hair. He felt a rumble in his gut—he was so hungry; he could eat anything. "One-one-nine...." He moved his hand over the birthmark on his forehead. The three-inch mark was shaped like a gibbous moon and sat in the very dead centre of his forehead. It had been there for all sixteen years of his life. "One-two-zero...." Luan rolled his eyes and turned his head, glaring into his bathroom as he tapped his foot. "One-two-one—" Uttering another sigh, he looked up at the ceiling and around his bare, bright room, but as the footsteps of the guard started echoing down the hall again, he stared ahead and stood up straight. He watched as the guard walked by, and moments later, the sound of the doors at the end of the hall opening followed. Luan waited, and once the doors closed, the same alarm that woke him from his sleep rang down the hallway. He could finally relax. Luan left his room, stepping out into the white, plain hallway. The rest of his packmates stepped out too, all in their human forms, and all with similar birthmarks on their foreheads. "Luan!" Caliban called. As Luan turned left to head for the mess hall, his brother waited by his door, and when Luan passed him, he walked at his brother's side. "Thanks again for last night, man," he said, patting Luan's back. "You really saved my ass—and Raith's." "It was nothing," Luan mumbled, shrugging. Caliban, as energetic as ever, shook his head and laughed, following Luan over to the canteen area where a small selection of breakfast items had been laid out. "I owe you one, little bro." Luan grabbed his plate and stood in line behind the rest of his packmates as they waited for their turn to get their breakfast. "You don't." But Caliban didn't seem to hear him. "And did you see Aysel? She's so badass." Sighing, Luan took a step closer to the canteen as the line shortened. "And Rakesh—he took a whole berserker down by himself while Raith and I struggled against the others," Caliban preached, ignoring the irritated tuts of their pack behind him. "Yeah, I saw," Luan said as he reached the canteen and grabbed a few pieces of bread. Caliban was just about two years older than Luan. He was so loud and energetic, nothing like his little brother, who preferred to keep quiet and to himself. In fact, Luan found it surprising that Caliban was as close to Rakesh as he was. "It was a close one," he concurred. Taking some bread for himself, and then some eggs and bacon after Luan had taken some, Caliban shook his head and grinned. "So close." Luan then led the way over to one of the two tables. Seat assignment was an unspoken rule among the pack; the Alphas usually sat with their closest betas, and despite being one of Rakesh's back-ups and heir, Caliban never chose to sit at their table. Instead, he sat with the rest of the pack and his little brother over by the right wall. Caliban sat beside Luan, and once he'd placed his plate down, he rested his right arm on the table and looked over at him. "Any idea what the suits were after this time?" he asked quietly. "Nobody ever knows," Luan mumbled. Then, he glanced over at the other table, watching as Rakesh and Aysel sat down. "You're close to Rakesh—you never asked him?" "Guy's pretty tightly knit with Aysel. Raith and I don't know anything," his brother muttered, greedily wharfing down his food. Luan stared over at Rakesh and Aysel for a moment, Caliban's non-stop talking drowning out as his amber eyes focused upon Aysel. Her ashen hair fell gracefully down to her thigh, and the hollow, perfectly circular birthmark in the centre of her head glimmered in the light of the white room. Rakesh was the polar opposite of her. His hair was as dark as night, his eyes a very gloomy brown. The birthmark on his head was also a perfect circle, but it wasn't hollow like Aysel's. His sharp face was scruffy with stubble, and he didn't bother to button his clothes—why would he? Like everyone else here, he felt more at home in his wolf form. Luan watched as their inner circle sat with them at their table—Ehann, Judith and Raith, the female beta that had assisted Rakesh last night along with Caliban. They all had that same moody gloom hanging over them—except Aysel. She had such a graceful aura— "Ay, Luan." Tarkik's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The tall, skinny boy sat across the table from Luan; he had about three hairs on his face, clinging for dear life, and the black-white hair atop his head was knotted and ghastly-looking. "Nearly lost you again last night," Mani said as he looked over at Caliban and sat beside Tarkik. He looked very similar to Luan—their birthmarks mirrored one another, and the patches of white hair on Luan's head were black on Mani's. Caliban scoffed and waved his hand over at Mani. "I was fine—Luan had my back." He patted Luan's back again. "Little bro's got us all, right?" Luan smiled with a mouth full of bread. "First time we've seen berserkers in a while—these guys we've been taking down must be getting desperate," Mani muttered, loudly chewing on his bacon. "And the ambush...they were really mad, huh?" "They've been desperate for a while," Tarkik corrected, picking apart the crust from his bread. Caliban nodded. "Ever since the wolves came to help the humans here, the bears were left pretty desperate." Luan stared down at his plate as he ate his breakfast. He'd heard the same stories more times than he could count since he'd been born here. Wolves had always served humans and Aysel and Rakesh's ancestors had specifically chosen to assist the suits in a time of war between mankind and the creatures of the Netherworld—berserkers were one of many, and currently the biggest threat the suits faced. But no one really knew why the suits were at war with Netherworlders, and Luan often wondered...did their ancestors know? They must have if they had chosen to work with these humans and left it in the hands of their descendants to continue to aid them. But he hadn't forgotten what he'd seen last night, either—or at least...what he thought he saw. That red blur had looked like a wolf...but it was dark, he was panicking. Why would wolves attack the suits and their soldiers? All wolves served Lyca-Corp. It was probably some strange Netherworlder Luan hadn't seen or heard of before. If it had been wolves, he was sure Rakesh would be up in arms about it. Laughing, Caliban then nudged Luan's arm with his shoulder. "Am I right?" he asked. He hadn't been listening to their conversation, so he just nodded. "Yeah, I suppose." Tarkik and Mani shook their heads as the rest of their pack joined their table. "What's going on?" Lusine asked, sitting beside Mani. The girl was the same age as the rest of them, and her white hair fell just past her shoulders. The roots grew out black, and a single black lock flowed down close to her right ear. "Tarkik and Mani are just tryna tell me the bears are holding back. They're scared—it's obvious," Caliban uttered, chewing on his bread. Lusine smiled as she sat down. "Well, whatever they're holding back, they better use it soon. Rakesh thinks we're closing in on their leader." Everyone glanced around the table at each other. But before any of them could mutter a word, the lights in the room shut off and pulsed red, and that whirring alarm Luan detested started blaring. It was time to leave. Tarkik groaned loudly as everyone stood up. "Already? I'm barely awake, man." "Tell me about it," Mani complained. "I'll see ya later," Caliban said, patting Luan's shoulder. As everyone headed towards the hallway, Luan watched Caliban rush to join Rakesh. Single file, everyone made their way down the hallway towards the locked double doors at its end. Moments later, the alarms shut off and the doors unlocked, letting the twelve of them into the large, empty white hall, where they all stood side by side. Luan looked over at the barred door on the left wall, and as it opened, armed, faceless soldiers marched into the hall, followed by a single suited man, who made his way over and stood before Luan's pack. The man's eyes were hidden behind his tinted glasses, but Luan could feel his sights on him. The man eyed each of them, a vacant stare on his face. What was it going to be this time, Luan wondered? "There's been an attack on sector one-three. We're heading over there to assist," the man said, his voice deep, cold, and toneless. "Head to extraction point two—ETA, ten minutes." Then, he turned around and left the room, his soldiers following. As the barred door shut, Rakesh and Aysel stepped out of line to look at the rest of the pack. Behind them, the large white shutters started opening, revealing the foggy morning field outside. "You heard him," Rakesh called, pulling off his shirt—then, in the blink of an eye, he morphed into his all-black wolf form. Everyone followed behind him, morphing into their wolf forms, and as Rakesh and Aysel led the way, the pack charged out into the field, heading for the extraction point. ⏎ Back to Wild Wolves ▶ Next Chapter