Eminence of Shadow.

Chapter 1: Whisper in the mist

The moon cast a dark blue glow over the cold winter battlefield, its light struggles to penetrate the thick dark clouds like a shroud on a dead barren waste land. The air was heavy with scent of blood and earth, the Count's bloodlust permeates the entire region.

Velarus stood at the middle of his carnage, armor was stained with remnants of countless skirmish. His once-proud banners lay tattered and torn in the ground, each breeze whispers the souls that died in the great "Crimson redemption" a war that lasted all night. His heart, in cased in the madness and rage he accumulated for the humans throughout his lifespan, beat with the screams and cry of all the soldiers he mercilessly eradicated.

It was a night of massacre, yet, tonight something stirs within him—an unfamiliar feeling that gnawed at the edge of his consciousness. He turned his gaze towards the distant dark forest, where the shadows seemed to dance with an unearthly energy. A silent whisper, almost imperceptible, called to him from the pitch black depths of the trees.

Driven by an inexplicable urge to find out what it is, restless, Velarus mounted his steed and rush towards the forest. As he got closer to the forest the unsteady feeling grows increasingly powerful, its darkness wrapping around him like an embracing clot, the whisper call gets louder and louder as they venture deeper in the woods, weaving a sorrow like call and hope tugged at the core of his very being.

Suddenly, the trees in front of him parted, revealing a small clearing bathed in the silver light of the moon. There, standing amidst the wildflowers, was a young woman. Her eyes, wide mixed with of  fear and determination, met his red blood veiny eyes.

"Who are you?" Velarus demanded, his out of breath voice cutting the eerie of the night's silence.

The young woman in fear hesitated, as if weighing her words carefully. Her hard gaze flickered to the ruined banners fluttering in the distant heavy winds, then finally back to Velarus. "I am Lenore," she finally replied after some time, her voice soft, steady yet weak.

Velarus studied her, his eyes narrowed slightly. In the midst of the devastation and death that  surrounded them, Lenore seemed out of place deep in the woods— fragile, soft, weak yet strangely full of tenacity, like a blooming flower amidst the ruins of war.

"Why are you out here?" Velarus asked, his tone more curious than accusatory now. He dismounted from his steed, his armored boots crunched the carpet of dead leaves as he approached closer to her.

"I came to find you." Lenore hesitantly admitted to the count, her gaze remains steady as she stares at the eyes of the count. "They say you are a man of war, a tyrant, a destroyer. Count Sebastian Velarus, I have read about you count, but no I think there are more to you than meets the eye. Behind your actions I know there is a reason to it."

Velarus's brows furrowed into skepticism. He had spent years honing his skills, slaughter unimaginable number of men, conquer kingdoms after kingdoms, alone—all in to prove his righteousness. Yet all those feet, still stood a young woman before him who saw through all his facade he had carefully constructed around himself.

"Is that so? What do you see then." Velarus asked, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and defiance.

"I  see a man burdened by his past, haunted by the choices and the path he took," Lenore replied softly. "But I also see a someone capable of change, capable of redemption,"

Velarus disregarded her words with a mixture of disbelief and surprise. No one has dared to speak with such manner to the count before, especially not on a battlefield he baptized with the blood of those against him.

"Haha! You speak in riddles, lady Lenore," Velarus remarked, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability rarely he shows allowed anyone else to witness.

Lenore, after a time of hesitation moved closer to the count, her hand reaching out tentatively. "Let me show you," She said, her voice soothing barely above whisper. "Let me show you a world other than war and conquest—let me show you the world you fail to see, without blood, killing, and violence. Let me show you the world other than you know it."

Velarus confused and hesitated, as his gazed lock with hers. For the first time in years, uncertainty crept in his heart—he thought of the path he chose, the future it will lead to if he continues, and the possibility of a different future that Lenore offers.

As the moon cast its ethereal light upon them, Velarus made a decision that forever would alter the course of his fate. He reached out, clasping Lenore's hand in his own, and together they ventured deep into the heart of the dark forest.