CHAPTER 4

[THE WHISPERING NIGHT]

PALACE Of Eldoria [Midnight Hours]

The night was still young, soaked in the scent of jasmine and silk. The moon poured her light generously upon Eldoria, casting silver shadows along the corridor's marble floor. The halls were silent now save for the occasional rustle of the night breeze weaving through the high windows.

Fate Stark, head of the ancient and powerful Council of Eldoria, sat half-draped in a loose robe, the ties undone and his skin still warm from the embers of a passionate encounter. Behind him, his bed lay tangled in velvet sheets a sign of temporary comfort he had long since abandoned.

Sleep eluded him. It often did.

He leaned against the cold pillar, his golden eyes fixed on the moon, which hung like a silent sentinel above the realm. His breath was steady, but beneath the surface, his thoughts churned. He could feel it-the tremble of the future, just out of reach, like a forgotten melody on the edge of memory.

Chaos was coming.

He had seen it in fragments bloody crowns, roaring beasts, magic unraveling like thread.

Fate's power was nothing ordinary, yet far from absolute. He possessed a secret none but destiny knew: to glimpse the truth-past, present, or future-he required seven seconds of eye contact. It shows only the important part of a persons life. But that wasn't all. He had another gift-visions. Slivers of fate, haunting glimpses that came unbidden. Sometimes warnings. Sometimes fate itself speaking through shadows.

And some visions were unchangeable.

He had already seen one such vision: a ruler rising an emperor who would unite or destroy. That was why he had called the round table. That was why the council had been summoned. He needed to see again, to understand who it truly was.

His gaze remained on the stars, until

A shiver.

A hum in the air.

Then

blaze.

Fate's golden eyes ignited, glowing with internal fire. His pupils vanished into light. His breath caught.

A vision had claimed him.

The corridor disappeared. So did the stone, the moon, and the silence.

He saw-

Two figures.

A woman of light and bloom stood beneath a willow tree, its blossoms in full defiance of the frost. Her skin was kissed by the winds , and her eyes held the color of forest rain. Her aura shimmered. Upon her flowing hair sat a crown of woven flowers, untouched by the cold. She is a Nymph, Fate at least knows the Realms people after living in Eldoria for hundreds of years.

Opposite her stood a man cloaked in darkness and flame. Towering. Pale. A shadow, his crimson eyes glowing with buried warmth, A vampire. His cloak danced like midnight, his presence soaked in loss and power.

They were alone.

Just two souls, unlikely and unbound, standing on the precipice of something irreversible.

The woman lifted her hand, touching the man's cheek with fearless grace. He took it gently, lowering his forehead to hers. Their breaths mingled. Their energies entwined. And the world... paused.

Fate gasped. The vision shattered.

His golden eyes dimmed. Reality settled in like dust after a storm. The corridor returned to stillness.

He sat motionless, breathless not because of the love he had seen, but because of what it meant.

A vampire and a nymph. Two legacies that should never converge.But why Destiny showed it to him. He always had important visions, vision that are necessary for the Well being of Eldoria. But two individual in love is not cruical information, even though they were a Nymph and a Vampire.

But who were they? He had not recognized them. Their names remained hidden in the vision's haze. Perhaps destiny had veiled them on purpose.

Fate ran a hand through his damp hair, sweat clinging to his skin. His lips parted, whispering not to the stars but to the future.

"What are you planning, destiny?"

This was not just a vision.

It was a call to action.

Fate Stark rose from his place by the pillar, the cool marble against his spine now a distant memory. His robe slipped slightly from his shoulder, forgotten. He moved like a man haunted not by fear, but by responsibility.

He poured water into a crystal basin, splashing his face in silence. The sensation grounded him. He caught his reflection in the glass: golden eyes still flickering faintly, like embers refusing to die.

"Two souls," he murmured, gripping the edges of the basin. "Two fates. One empire."

And he didn't know who they were.

The thought unsettled him. He had always seen clearly-always glimpsed names, faces, timelines, fragments of truths that others could only dream of. But this vision... this one was cloaked. Destiny had revealed the outcome, but not the players. A cruel riddle.

But one thing was certain,

He had to find them.

Morning in Eldoria

The Council Awakens

As the first rays of morning spilled across the high towers of Eldoria, Fate Stark stood ready.

He had cast aside the haze of the night, his mind sharpened by purpose. Draped in his usual attire a royal purple cloak that flowed like dusk itself he moved with the quiet grace of a man born to be watched. The cloak's edges shimmered faintly, the fabric tailored perfectly to his lean frame, complementing the golden cascade of his hair that caught the morning light like fire.

To the elders, he was more than the Head of the Council. He was a vision revered for his wisdom, respected for his power, and quietly adored for his beauty.

As he stepped through the marble corridors toward the Chamber of Elders, the silence bowed to him. Each footfall echoed with purpose.

Fate settled into his chair with practiced ease, the folds of his cloak draping elegantly around him. The elders, already gathered, turned their attention to him in expectant silent.

"Good morning," Fate began, his voice calm yet commanding. "I apologize for the urgency of this meeting, but I had a new vision last night one significant enough to warrant immediate attention."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the chamber.

"This is no ordinary foresight," Fate continued, his golden eyes scanning the chamber. "I saw two different species... a vampire and a nymph."

A murmur rippled through the room.

"Together, as in?" one of the elders asked cautiously.

Fate's voice remained steady. "They were in love."

A collective gasp swept across the chamber.

"That is impossible!" another elder exclaimed, rising slightly from his seat. "Nymphs loathe vampires-always have. All but King Eren, perhaps. His great-grandmother was murdered by a vampire. And even before that, if we look through history, their enmity has been relentless."

The elder's eyes burned with disbelief. "To this day, every single nymph harbors hatred for Zion and its people. Their wounds run deep. What you saw... defies centuries of blood and memory."

Fate paused for a few moments, letting the tension settle. His gaze shifted to the speaker-a sharp-eyed elder with silver-streaked hair and a spine that had never bowed to time.

Her name was Matilda. One of the oldest and most knowledgeable among the Council. Respected, revered, and known for her brutal honesty and unshakable memory of Eldoria's history.

Fate inclined his head slightly toward her.

"I know of Queen Klystron," he said calmly. Fate knows this hatred has been going on for years. They are never Involving themselves in anything more. Fate being carefree he didn't thought much about this problem until his vision. "But I would like to hear more about the history you speak of. The depth of this hatred. The roots of it."

His voice held no challenge, only a sincere desire to understand what the vision had dared to contradict.

Matilda's eyes narrowed slightly, not in suspicion but in thought.

And then, she began to speak.

"It was before Destiny created you," Matilda began, her voice echoing through the chamber like the turning of ancient pages. "A tale from thousands of years ago... when the five realms were still young wild, untamed, and ungoverned."

She paused, letting the weight of history settle.

"In those days, there were no monarchs to rule, no crowns to bear. The concept of royalty had not yet taken root. The balance of power, of fate and choice, was left entirely in the hands of destiny herself. She alone wove the threads that held the realms together."

She rose from her seat slowly, her hands clasped behind her back as she paced.

"Back then, the nymphs of Noreda were sacred guardians of the earth's balance. They spoke to rivers, danced with storms, and healed the lands. The vampires of Zion, meanwhile, were still emerging from the shadows of their cursed birth seeking power, territory... and immortality through blood."

She paused, glancing around the room before continuing.

"One vampire lord Xarion the Red whose bloodline lives on in today's royal family of Zion, once desired the Heartroot Grove, a sacred nymphic site said to house the life force of Noreda itself. Lady Elithiya- a fierce and radiant nymph, Erens ancestor, refused him. She protected the Grove with every breath in her body."

Matilda's tone dropped.

"But Xarion was relentless. He went as far as seducing Elithiya, cloaking his ambition beneath a veil of love. He proposed marriage, speaking of peace between their kinds. Elithiya, believing his heart was true, accepted."

She paused.

"It was her greatest mistake," Matilda continued solemnly. "When Elithiya discovered the truth, it shattered her. She had loved Xarion with every fiber of her being. Nymphs are the most loyal creatures to ever exist in Eldoria once they give their heart, they never take it back."

She paused, letting the weight of the words settle.

"Elithiya couldn't withstand the betrayal. When she confronted Xarion, hoping it was all a lie, he silenced her... with his sword."

Gasps echoed quietly through the chamber.

"They never had any offspring. And with her death, the peace treaty that was meant to follow their union crumbled before it ever began."

Fate listened attentively to Matilda, his golden eyes never wavering. "Then what about their bloodline?" he asked, his voice steady.

Matilda took a breath before responding. "Elithiya had a brother, and it is from his bloodline that King Eren descends-directly from Elithiya's brother's line."

She paused, her gaze darkening as she continued.

"As for Xarion... he married a Vampire afterwards, He had one offspring, His bloodline runs through Zion's royal family."

Fate's gaze sharpened as he looked directly at Matilda. "What about Xarion?" he asked, his voice cutting through the silence.

Matilda sighed, her expression grim. "The story of what happened to him after Elithiya's death is vivid, but unclear. No one can say for certain what occurred, but it is said that Elithiya's soul haunted him relentlessly. His mind was consumed by her wrath, until one day he simply disappeared leaving his wife and child behind, as though he had vanished into thin air."

Now it all made sense. Fate understood why destiny had shown him the vision-why it had come with such urgency.

The love between the two figures he had seen was no ordinary bond. They were not just two souls intertwined by chance they were descendants of powerful bloodlines, shaped by centuries of history and pain. Their union held meaning. Perhaps even prophecy.

He needed to find them. No matter what it took. And he had to do it quickly.