Alastor | Faerie

Within the icy walls of Nocthhar Castle, where shadows clung to every crack in the stone, a young girl sat on the cold floor of her prison. Her hair, usually as bright as the sun, now seemed dull, and her eyes, full of fear, were fixed on the door. She heard footsteps - heavy, slow, as if each step were a warning. The door creaked, and Alastor, son of Krognus and crown prince, entered the room.

His black hair was slightly disheveled, and his lips were twisted into a grin that was more irritating than frightening. He held an apple in his hands, tossing it from hand to hand as if playing with something insignificant.

• Well, sparkle, - his voice sounded mocking, - how do you like our hospitality? Isn't it cold?

Alastor came closer, squatted down in front of her, and held out an apple.

• Take it. You won't die of hunger until your father decides what to do with you.

Ancient enmity swirled in the flickering light of the ancient forests of Elderwood and the frosty splendor of the icy peaks of Nocthar. The Faerie kingdoms, once allies, now wove a web of intrigue and hatred. The reason for this was long-standing grudges, the struggle for control over magical sources, and a thirst for power.

Eldrian, King of Elderwood, accused grim Krognus, Lord of Nocthar, of violating ancient pacts. Tension grew like poison ivy, wrapping around the once-blooming lands.

The spark that ignited the flame was the abduction of the princess, the daughter of Eldiran. Her disappearance plunged Arador into mourning and rage. Everything pointed to the Twilight Forest. The troops were assembled, the weapons were sharpened, and the signs of war filled the skies.

Krognus needed the girl for a ritual that could open the gates to the ancient world, where he hoped to gain power beyond even the kings of Faerie.

Her abduction is just a chess move in his sinister game.