The Elven Vampire Queen & Her Mate

Princess Faryn knew she was destined to leave these cold stone walls behind. She always could feel an outward pull. It was like an ache in her bones, deeply rooted within her soul. Why would her name mean "adventurous one" if she was meant to spend her entire life here? Her delicate hands picked at the dark green ivy along the windowsill while she stared at the beyond, deep in thought. Despite the iron bars on the window, a few rays of golden sun warmed her face. She gripped them tightly, inhaling deeply as a sweet summer breeze drifted into her room. The smell of outside that is only made in summer time - lavender, honeysuckle, the earthy scent from the damp forest was like medicine for her wandering heart. Faryn breathed out slowly and strained to look towards the stone path leading to the castle's entrance. She was waiting. Always waiting. Waiting for something to happen to release her from this place. Each day, the same as the one before. Each year she spent the months longing for a change. And here it was – today she was getting married and leaving this place, hopefully forever. No one could quite understand her restless nature. Who would want to leave Château Soleil? When those living in or staying at Château Soleil looked, they only saw what their majesties wanted them to see. Faryn often wondered how anyone could be so oblivious the realities of it all, but eventually, she stopped asking. Sometimes, when she stared upwards at the towers, she felt as if they were going to topple at any moment. Despite these fleeting feelings, she knew the castle had been standing for hundreds of centuries. Faryn's father, King Lucien, has been reigning for nearly 200 years. Despite going through it's share of rulers and stewards, Château Soleil always appeared the same outside as well as in. Colorful tapestries of the castle's history adorned the halls while portraits could be seen throughout it's entirety. Paintings showed the royal families who have since fallen into memory, but their eyes remained ever watchful. Lush and opulent furnishings were found in almost every room made of shades of gold and warm-toned fabrics, it almost felt as if one were living in the sun. That's the thing though, when the floors are made of marble and there's golden locks on the doors, no one sees a prison As Faryn grew up, she started to see through the façade. Her father's once soft features, hardened - he constantly seemed in a state of scowling. He spoke in a deep commanding voice at all times and she could not remember the last time a smile reached his red-hued eyes. His graying hair was typically pulled back neatly, showing off the tips of his arched ears. A sharp pain startled her out of her thoughts. "s**t!" she pulled her hand away from the windowsill to see a few drops of scarlet blood ooze from her finger. Faryn pulled out a the darkest towel she could find in order to conceal the blood she was wiping up. If her father found out she had been clumsy again, he might lose his temper which was something she strived hard not to be the cause of. While washing her hand in the basin on the dresser, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her violet eyes stared back at her. This was just one of the many differences between her and her father. Faryn made a mental note to remind Lyra, her lady-in-waiting, she needed to re-braid her long onyx hair. Too many wisps were sticking out haphazardly. She chewed her lip anxiously looking for what else her father might call out. Drying her hands, she attempted to tuck her loose hair under the gold and ruby circlet she wore, but somehow it looked messier than before. A loud knock sounded on her door. Faryn quickly wrapped the last loose tendrils around her slightly arched elven ears, "enter, please", her voice was calmer than she expected. Immediately she was met with the disapproving eyes of King Lucien. While most fathers might smile lovingly or embrace their only child, Lucien furrowed his brow at his daughter. "Why are you not ready yet?" he demanded in that superior tone she knew too well. There was something about high-elven kings, like many high-ups in the societies, where their aura and tone could almost will their subjects to do as asked. It's like he could project his intention onto others who would blindly submit without a second thought. She knew when he was attempting sway her as she could still feel a slight waver in her mind. This was how she noticed the differences - she could not be swayed as others in their kingdom. Neither of them understood, but she also suspected that this was another reason why he was always cold and distant towards her. He stood in her doorway, filling as much of the space as he could with his broad shoulders. Faryn steadied her mind and straightened her back, almost like she was preparing for some kind of confrontation. "I am ready," she gestured to her dress. Despite her best attempts, she actually quite loved it. The ruby satin appeared an even darker shade beneath delicate black lace. Regardless of the king's preference for colors he deemed "of the sun", such as crimsons, oranges, honey-yellows, and the whiteness of light, Faryn had always preferred the darker shades color had to offer. A sweetheart neckline adorned with black beadwork and gems accentuated her breasts, bringing the eye down the decorated bodice. Almost sheer sleeves hung gracefully, like wings that swept around her as she walked. . Her favorite thing about it was how it sparkled when the lights touched it. When the sunlight hit just right, she looked ablaze, with the ruby becoming almost crimson and the black lace equating to smoke. She felt like this was an appropriate look for the Princess of the Rising Sun Kingdom on her wedding day. King Lucien stared silently at his only child, his daughter of nearly 25 years. Her very existence always felt like a trick played on him by the Goddess of Life. He had tried so hard to find the perfect partner, to be the perfect king for his kingdom, but he had always come up short. Her long onyx hair and tanned complexion was a constant reminder that she was...different. Each time he looked at her, he could only see Ariella's violet eyes starting back at him - like she was taunting him from beyond the grave. He could admit to himself that she looked stunning in her dark wedding dress, those colors had always suited her, but he could not help feel the anger welling up inside of him. "That is not a gown fit for the Rising Sun Kingdom," was all he managed through gritted teeth. Faryn knew the high council would be present today and yet she continued to shame him in this way. Today things had to be perfect. Each piece played exactly the way it was supposed to be. "I will not be part of this kingdom when the day is finished, so why does it matter?" Faryn's eyes darkened as she stared straight at him. Why was she always challenging him? He had never been able to impart his will onto her, even as a young child. Despite having high-elven blood, there was too much of her mother in her. As is high-elven custom, when one comes of age, their parents will arrange their marriage. These marriages are like contracts in the way that it binds two kingdoms together. This is precisely what Lucien intended with his daughter – to bind his kingdom to the Heart’s Blood Court. Despite the rumors about the aggressive and blood-thirsty nature of Count Damien, he was not concerned about the marriage. He could solve two problems at once. "It appears it does not," he sighed heavily looking at her through a furrowed brow as always. Whinnying horses and the bustle of an arrival stirred them both. "Let's go," he commanded. Faryn glanced out the window one last time, she could see dark ornate carriages pulling into the courtyard. Her future was waiting for her - granted this is not the path she envisioned, surely it had to be better than spending an eternity here. "HE'S HERE!" the voice of a young woman could be heard throughout the entire hall. Upon seeing the king, Lyra dropped into a low curtsey, "Your Majesty, I apologize." "Get her ready," Lucien replied roughly has he walked away. "Oh Lyra, come here!" Faryn hugged her only friend, her lady in waiting. She breathed in the scent of vanilla and said a silent prayer to the Goddess of Life. She was unsure if her father would allow Lyra to come with her and she was afraid of what would happen if she could not. Depsite the differences in their rank, the two were quite literally best friends. When her own father had auctioned her off, Lyra became a servant in Château Soleil. King Lucien had always seemed to have a natural disdain for her, but eventually she confided to Faryn that she was a self taught witch. Due to this, she was much less affected by Lucien's commands and would not submit to his every changing aura. "...and everything is packed in your trunks. I've asked the guard to take them to the Great Hall already," Lyra rattling off things Faryn should have been paying attention to, but she could not bring herself to focus on her friend's words. "Pack your things," she grabbed Lyra's arms and looked into her friends green eyes, "pack your things and put them with mine. You must come with me," Faryn repeated. She knew she could not leave Lyra alone. While she could not place the feeling, there was an ache within her telling her Lyra was unsafe if she left without her. Shocked at the commanding tone, Lyra nodded, her red curls falling forward. "And put this on," Faryn handed her a dark colored dress made of silk and velvet. Lyra started to protest, but the look on Faryn's face made her stop. "You must come with me, you will not be safe here without me," she tried explaining, desperately searching Lyra's face for understanding. Some years ago she discovered a secret buried deep within an old tapestry in a forgotten wing of the castle. It showed her mother, Ariella, with a violet glow around her. Designs of a black wolf, mystical symbols, and pentagrams were intricately woven around the edges. An old script she had not seen before told a story she couldn't read. From what Faryn could gather after bribing some of the older servants of Château Soleil, was that her mother had been a witch. According to the tale, her mother had used both her high-elven aura and old magick to trick her father into falling in love with her in order to join their kingdoms. The old maid claimed that she, Faryn, had been conceived under this dark magick which bore the seed of anger in her father's heart. The king had eventually found out such tales were being shared and Faryn never saw the old woman again. "Yes my lady," Lyra responded with a slight bow. She knew better than to argue when Faryn's eyes shifted; it was a precursor to her using her aura. For some reason, Lyra could resist it, but only just. Something about her aura was different than that of other high-elves. "Good, now go and change," Faryn released her friend, "please make sure everything is sent out to the carriages. I will want to leave immediately after the ceremony. I feel something is coming," she trailed off. "Something bad?" Lyra questioned, drawing the pentagram sigil in the air in front of her. "I'm not sure, but we must be prepared," Faryn started to leave, but Lyra thrust a small satchel in her hands. "I felt commanded as if to make it this morning," Lyra rushed to say as she pulled out a folded piece of parchment. "Read this aloud just before you go before the altar." Faryn squeezed her friends hands before carefully tucking the paper and satchel into the folds of her wedding gown. Before losing anymore time, she swept up the front of her gown and hurried down the steps of her tower, stopping to take one last look before letting the heavy door shut. Suddenly her heart felt as though it stopped and all air had been sucked from the hall. It was as if the weight of the world came crashing down around her, all of the things she had wanted for so long were just within reach, but she couldn't quite grasp it. She closed her eyes and steadied herself against the cold stone wall. She heard the rush of water as the sea's waves crashed against the cliffside. The scent of pinewood filled the air. There was yelling, screaming, a wave of heat left her trembling then nothing, but coldness. Faryn's eyes burst open. What was that?! Her heart started to beat normally and she could no longer hear the ocean's waves or feel the death-like coldness. She had been having moments such as these for a few months now. First as dreams, she'd wake in the dead of night covered in sweat. Now they seemed to happen more frequently and with more urgency, like something was coming, but she could not figure out what it meant. She only hoped that it would fade once she left this place. Despite the golden appearance, things were far from it at Château Soleil, she thought. Perhaps it was the reason she so readily agreed to this marriage contract. Rumors surrounding the Heart's Blood Court simply made her shiver - they were not high elves, but something more intimidating. She was unsure how the contract had been proposed, but Faryn assumed it had been in order to stop a brewing war between her people and the vampires of old. Both kingdoms were the most prominent on their home soil and tensions had been rising lately. Every creature with half a brain knew how each despised the other. Regardless of the expanse of ocean separating these two continents, the high-elves felt threatened by the existence of The Courts. Faryn had read every book she could compel her tutors into giving her. She learned that The Courts were made from the older classes of vampires living on the continent of Laegrath. It is said they ruled through fear and bloodshed, warring without cause and leaving destruction in their path. Some reports indicated that the rulers would drink the blood of their enemies and sacrifice young women to gain the favor of their gods. A history book went so far as to claim that the last ruler of the Court of Death went on a vicious rampage, killing all members in a visiting emissary party from the Kingdom of Light, simply because one of the guards looked at him wrong. However, following those events, the high council decided it was time to try to mend relationships which is when Faryn discovered she was betrothed to Count Damien of the Heart's Blood Court. Her mind raced from thought to thought as she walked the halls of Château Soleil one last time. She had heard tales of the Count’s handsome features, but even more about his unending thirst. It was said that women were lured to his bed and never seen again. It terrified and excited her. The ceremony would be taking place in the courtyard closest to the cliffside. If she was being used as pawn, she would at least make sure her wedding was going to be what she wanted. Golden swathes hung from marble columns and the blooming flowers added the right amount of color to the deep green grasses. While it was still lavish by standard, the ceremony would be small: the high-council, her father, king's guard, Faryn, her soon-to-be husband, his guard, and a small band of musicians. The sun was beginning to fall, setting the cliffside ablaze in it's dying light. Standing in the westside castle entrance, she breathed in deeply and was met with a salty breeze, warm, and a deep pinewood scent she immediately recognized. The cellist began as she stepped onto the stone path leading to the altar. All eyes rested on her as each step echoed against the castle's walls. The high-councilor began, "Blessed be by the Goddess of Life, we are here today to join these two realms in marriage," Faryn focused on taking each step, the scent of pinewood becoming stronger as she got closer to the altar. Suddenly she was face to face with her new husband as she reached the end. It felt like the entire party held their breath as he carefully pulled her veil back. The voice of the high-councilor was lost to her as she stared into his eyes, silvery as if the stars themselves were looking back at her. His skin was deep in color like the rich bark of the forest trees. She could immediately recognize the high cheekbones, chiseled jawline, and pointed ears that characterized the vampires of the old courts. Her breath caught in her throat as he took her hand in his, a shiver ran through her body. She could feel his eyes moving over her body. The high councilor's voice faded as her heartbeats echoed in her ears like the crashing waves on the cliffside. Count Damien's mouth was moving, but Faryn could not hear what he was saying. Suddenly, it felt like time was suspended as she looked down. Blood seeped from between the layers of her bodice. Faryn looked up to Count Damien, her husband-to-be. His eyes had gone completely white and she could see his fangs protruding as his mouth curled into a snarl, he was rushing towards her. As the world slipped from view, she looked to her father. She swore she saw a smile on the king’s face then....nothing. Faryn's body crumpled onto the stone as blood spilled onto the grass, a silver tipped arrow protruded from her middle.