Chapter 1
Background
In the ancient annals of the Oro Continent, thirteen centuries past witnessed a cataclysmic war that forever altered the world's balance. The mighty werewolf clans, blessed with their divine gift of transformation, superhuman strength, and tight-knit unity, brought the vampire race to the very precipice of extinction.
Facing the horror of complete annihilation, the vampires enacted their ultimate curse in desperate fury: channeling the energy of ten million departed souls and the purest blood as conduits, they cast an eternal malediction upon the werewolf race. From that accursed moment, the powerful werewolves became slaves to blood, forever dependent upon its consumption for their very survival.
Three centuries ago, the vampires emerged from their shadowed exile with renewed cunning. They whispered poisonous words into the ears of human royalty, exploiting the werewolves' blood curse to kindle terror in mortal hearts. On a night when the eclipse moon hung like a crimson eye in the sky, humanity shattered their ancient covenant with the werewolves, joining forces with the vampires in a treacherous assault. Caught between two enemies, the werewolf race faced unprecedented peril.
In that hour of ultimate desperation, the great Wolf King Lycanthar invoked forbidden ancient magic, awakening the most primal wolf essence within his soul. His power transcended all limits as he reaped enemy lives like a harbinger of death across the battlefield. Yet the price of such power was merciless—the Wolf King, fully transformed, lost all reason, unable to distinguish friend from foe, and began a mad slaughter of every living creature in his path.
To save their people, the three Legion Commanders united to subdue their lost king, imprisoning him in the deepest chambers of Lycandor Keep, within the dreaded Iron Maw. Though the war ended and the vampires vanished once more into shadow, the hatred between werewolves and humans blazed like an unquenchable fire. The werewolf clans began ruthless raids upon human settlements, claiming resources and citizens alike, while the human kingdoms withered, their territories shrinking with each passing year.
On this land soaked in blood for three hundred years, I, the princess of the Kingdom of Eldoria, was about to meet my destiny.
Adelaide
The morning sun slanted through the stained glass windows of the palace corridor, painting my burgundy gown with threads of gold as I walked. The silk whispered against the marble floors, and the silver ornaments at my waist caught the light with each measured step I took.
"Good morning, Your Highness." An elderly maidservant curtsied gracefully, her eyes warm with genuine affection.
I inclined my head with a gentle smile, my violet eyes—a trait that had always marked me as different among our family—meeting hers briefly. Throughout the corridor, servants paused in their duties to offer respectful greetings, and I acknowledged each with the courtesy my father had taught me. Such small gestures of kindness were precious in these dark times, when hope itself had become a luxury few could afford.
My destination lay at the far end of the corridor: an unremarkable oak door tucked away in the secluded eastern wing. Few knew of this hidden chamber's existence, and fewer still had reason to enter. I knocked softly and waited for permission before pushing the heavy door open.
The atmosphere within struck me immediately—thick with tension and weighted with dread. Father sat by the window, his face bearing the toll of sleepless nights and impossible decisions. My eldest brother Alexander stood rigid beside the fireplace, his jaw clenched with barely contained frustration. Leonard, my scholarly brother, clutched an ancient tome, worry etched deep in his features.
At the room's center stood High Priest Cedric, his pale robes adorned with mystical runes, while his daughter Thalia waited behind him, her golden hair catching what little light penetrated the chamber's gloom.
A massive crystal orb dominated the room's center, its depths swirling with otherworldly mist that pulsed with an eerie blue radiance. High Priest Cedric held his hands suspended above its surface, eyes closed in deep concentration, sweat beading upon his brow as he whispered ancient prophetic incantations in the old tongue.
The orb's light suddenly dimmed, and within its cloudy depths, images began to form—a castle consumed by flames, humans fleeing in terror from pursuing werewolf forms. The High Priest opened his eyes, his voice hoarse and heavy with foreboding: "I have witnessed Eldoria's final hour. Within three months' time, the werewolf armies shall breach our capital's walls. Our people will become slaves, and the royal bloodline will be severed forever."
Father closed his eyes in anguish while Alexander's fist struck the wall with barely restrained rage. Leonard shut his book with a heavy sigh. "Is there truly no hope remaining?"
The High Priest's gaze returned to the crystal sphere, and suddenly the mists shifted, forming my silhouette surrounded by an aureole of mysterious silver light. "Fate reveals an unexpected path," he said, his voice trembling. "Princess Adelaide must infiltrate the werewolf territories, seeking their fatal weaknesses and internal secrets. This alone offers us salvation."
Silence fell like a shroud upon the chamber. Every eye turned toward me, and I felt the weight of destiny settling upon my shoulders like a mantle of lead.
"Impossible!" Alexander's voice cut through the stillness like a blade. "I will not send my sister to her death! Better that I lead our armies in a final stand!"
Leonard stepped forward urgently. "The werewolves harbor absolute hatred for royal blood. Should they discover Adelaide's identity, she would suffer fates far worse than death itself."
Father shook his head in torment. "I cannot sacrifice my most beloved daughter..."
"Father," I said, stepping forward with a calm that surprised even myself, "if this represents our kingdom's only hope, then I willingly accept this burden. Our people deserve a future, not merely an honorable defeat."
Thalia spoke for the first time, her voice soft but clear: "Your Highness, what of the blood moon mark upon your back? It bears witness to royal heritage—the werewolves would recognize it instantly."
The High Priest considered this gravely. "I can weave concealment magic to hide both the mark and her distinguishing features. However, such enchantments require regular renewal, lest they gradually fade and fail."
Father rose unsteadily, his hands trembling. "Even with such precautions, I cannot bear to send you into such peril alone..."
I knelt before him, taking his weathered hands in mine. "Father, we have no alternative. Trust in me—I shall find a way to survive and return with the hope our family and kingdom desperately need."
Thalia stepped forward. "Your Majesty, grant me permission to accompany the Princess. I have mastered portions of my father's magical arts and can protect Her Highness while maintaining the concealment spells."
After long moments of agonized debate and painful deliberation, Father's shoulders sagged in defeat. "May the Moon Goddess protect you both... Prepare yourselves, my daughter. Destiny has chosen you as its instrument."
I rose, meeting his gaze with steel in my violet eyes. "For Eldoria's sake, I am ready to face whatever awaits."
The crystal orb pulsed once more with that ethereal light, and I knew that my old life—the sheltered existence of a beloved princess—had ended. What lay ahead in the werewolf territories would test every fiber of my being, but I would not falter. Too many lives depended upon the success of this desperate gambit.
The shadow of destiny had fallen across my path, and I would walk it, no matter where it led.