What if the fairytales, myths and legends lived in a futuristic realm?
What if Little red was the huntsman?
What if the Evil Queen was Snow White's Brother?
What if Pinocchio was a machine disguised as a boy?
The realm of Nevermoore has been shaken...
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His feet hurt.
He knew it was a bad idea not to warm up, before climbing up the hill using wind propulsion to arrive early.
Each step stung, and the heels on the boots did not help.
Wind swirled around his feet, he clenched one of the pearls in his bracelet between his fingers, as he waved with his free hand for the winds to abide his call and propel him to the end of the staircase.
His eyes shimmered.
In a matter of seconds Raeb stood at the doorframe of the abandoned castle, where Maximoff had agreed to hear his plea.
"Hello?"
The royal bellowed as, no light seemed to come or illuminate the emptied grounds, instead a putrid smell, something had either died nearby, or had been rotting.
Deep inside the fortress was not so ruined, it was true vines and moss had taken this place as their home, but the neo-gothic windows, arches and plentiful towers seemed well-kept. In the mantle of stars above the moon hung almost mature, almost ready like an apple about to be ripped off the branch for the harvest.
Raeb ventured into the courtyard, his right hand already counting for the seconds, ready to burn another pearl of vorpalite to cast the next spell when the voice of the hematophagous noble broke the silence.
"You're early"
Raeb turned around, his face tilted up to gaze at his glowing red eyes.
"Punctuality can be everything to the right mind."
"Tell me then, why did you come."
Vlad asked as he softly caressed the chest of the prince, beginning to walk around him, like a lion circling its prey.
"You know the ice queen is lying, there is no way what happened with her gift would ever be a decoy or an order of mine."
He knew the Stryx was listening to his heart, a slip up and he'd be bloodied out.
"I'm not interested on going to war with her."
The blood sucker confirmed.
Raeb was fortunate Vlad was not his type, but he wasn't ugly, his face had a Greek-like quality like a statue of the ancient god of desire, and his lanky fibrous built fit for an enchanting model of said sculptures or a model of the best designers, he was sure Vlad had the might to swoon any lady that found the brooding type a win.
"We are not, that'd be foolish."
Vlad turned to him.
There was a skip out of excitement.
"I need someone strong-willed on my council, and I think you're the perfect candidate."
