Dark Majesty walked through the castle halls, feeling the weight of the curse upon him.
The bargain he had made with the witch had given him immense power, but it had come at a terrible cost.
He could feel the darkness growing inside of him, threatening to consume him.
As he walked, he heard the sound of whispered conversations and worried murmurs.
His people were beginning to notice the change in him, and he knew that he had to act quickly before their fear turned to revolt.
He made his way to the throne room, where his advisors were waiting for him.
"My lord," one of them said, bowing low.
"We have urgent news from the eastern border."
Dark Majesty nodded, taking his seat on the throne. "Speak..."
he said, his voice betraying none of the turmoil within.
"Our scouts have reported a large force of enemy troops amassing on the other side of the river," the advisor said.
"It appears that they are preparing for an attack."
Dark Majesty frowned, his mind racing. He knew that he had to act quickly, but he also knew that he could not lead his troops in his current state.
The curse was too powerful, too consuming.
"Prepare the troops," he said finally.
"I will meet you on the battlefield."
The advisors exchanged worried glances, but they did not question their king.
They knew that he was the only one who could lead them to victory.
As they left the throne room, Dark Majesty felt the weight of the curse growing heavier.
He knew that he needed help, and he knew that the witch was the only one who could provide it.
He made his way to the hidden alcove in the castle where he had met her before.
As he approached, he could feel her presence, dark and foreboding.
"Welcome back," she said, her voice echoing through the space.
"What brings you here?"
"I need your help," Dark Majesty said, his voice low. "The curse is growing stronger. I fear that it will consume me."
The witch smiled, her eyes gleaming.
"I knew you would come back to me," she said. "I have just the thing for you."
She handed him a small vial filled with a dark liquid. "Drink this," she said.
"It will give you the strength to fight off the curse."
Dark Majesty hesitated, but he knew that he had no other choice.
He raised the vial to his lips and drank.
At first, he felt nothing. But then, a surge of power rushed through him, driving back the darkness that had been threatening to overwhelm him.
He could feel his strength returning, and with it, his confidence.
"Thank you," he said, handing the vial back to the witch.
"But what is the cost of this power?
What else have I given up?"
The witch smiled again, her eyes glittering with malice.
"Oh, nothing much," she said.
"Just a small part of your soul."
Dark Majesty felt a chill run down his spine. He knew that he had just made a terrible bargain, but he also knew that he had no choice. He had to protect his kingdom, no matter the cost.
As he left the alcove, he could feel the darkness growing stronger once again.
But he pushed it back, focusing on the task at hand. He had an army to lead, and a battle to win.
The battle was long and brutal, but Dark Majesty led his troops with skill and determination.
The curse no longer held him back, and he fought with a strength and ferocity that his enemies had never seen before.
In the end, victory was theirs.
The enemy troops were scattered, and their leader was captured and brought before Dark Majesty for judgment.
Dark Majesty stood atop a hill overlooking the battlefield, his eyes scanning the carnage below.
He felt a mix of emotions—pride in his soldiers for their bravery and skill, sadness for the lives lost, and a lingering sense of unease about the cost of victory.
As he descended the hill, he was greeted by the sight of his soldiers celebrating their triumph.
They cheered as he approached, and he raised his hand in acknowledgement.
But his mind was elsewhere, his thoughts consumed by the looming decision he had to make.
The enemy leader, a fierce warrior named Vayne, was brought before him in chains.
Dark Majesty studied him for a moment, taking in the man's proud, defiant expression. He knew that Vayne would not make this easy.
"What is to become of me, vampire?"
Vayne spat the word as if it tasted foul in his mouth.
"That is for me to decide,"
Dark Majesty replied calmly.
"You led your troops to war against my kingdom, and for that, you must face justice."
"Justice...?"
Vayne scoffed.
"There is no justice in your kind. You are all tyrants, ruling over us with your cursed powers."
Dark Majesty's patience was wearing thin. "My powers are not cursed, but earned through centuries of sacrifice and training.
And it is my duty to protect my kingdom from those who would do it harm, even if that means going to war."
Vayne sneered.
"You speak of duty and honor, yet you sit on a throne of blood and lies. You are no better than the monsters you claim to fight."
The insult stung, but Dark Majesty kept his composure.
"You are entitled to your opinion. But now is not the time for talk. Your fate will be decided soon enough."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Vayne to stew in his chains.
He knew that he would have to make a difficult decision—one that would test his own sense of justice and mercy.
As he made his way back to his chambers, Dark Majesty felt a sense of unease settle in his gut.
He knew that he couldn't simply execute Vayne without considering the implications. But he also couldn't let a dangerous enemy go free.
He sat at his desk and mulled over his options, his thoughts interrupted only by the soft knock at his door.
It was the witch, her eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction.
"I sense a great burden on you, my lord," she said, entering the room.
"Tell me, what weighs on your mind?"
Dark Majesty hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"I have a prisoner, the enemy leader, Vayne. I am unsure of what to do with him."
The witch nodded knowingly.
"Ah, I see. You fear the consequences of your decision, and rightly so.
But perhaps I can be of assistance."
Dark Majesty raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
The witch leaned forward.
"I know of a way to ensure that Vayne will never be a threat to your kingdom again."
"It is a cursed bargain, but it will guarantee his obedience and servitude."
Dark Majesty hesitated, knowing that deals with witches were always dangerous. But the temptation was too great.
"Tell me more."
The witch explained the details of the curse, and Dark Majesty listened intently.
It was a risky move, but he knew that he needed to take it.
He agreed to the bargain, and the witch set to work, chanting incantations and drawing arcane symbols on the floor.
When the ritual was complete, Vayne was brought before them once again.
The witch spoke in a low, hypnotic voice, and Dark Majesty watched as Vayne's eyes glazed over and his body went slack.
The witch watched with a twisted smile as Dark Majesty carried out his punishment.
She knew that her curse would bring him nothing but pain and suffering in the end, but she also knew that he had made his choice.
The pact was sealed, and there was no going back.
As the king returned to his chambers, he could feel the weight of the curse settling on his shoulders.
He knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but he was determined to see it through.
He had made a bargain with the witch, and he would honor it, no matter the cost.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, as Dark Majesty struggled to keep his kingdom together under the weight of the curse.
The people began to fear him, and his advisors grew distant. But he refused to give up.
He had made a promise to his people, and he would see it through, no matter what.
It was on a dark and stormy night, as he sat alone in his chambers, that he heard a knock at his door. When he opened it, he found the witch standing there, her twisted smile wider than ever.
"I have come to collect what is mine,"
she hissed, holding out her hand.
Dark Majesty knew what she wanted. She wanted the Blood Crown, the source of his power.
It was the only thing that could break the curse.
"You'll have to kill me first," he said, drawing his sword.
The witch chuckled.
"Oh, I don't intend to kill you. Not yet, at least. I have other plans for you."
And with that, she disappeared into the night, leaving Dark Majesty alone with his thoughts and his curse. He knew that he was running out of time, and that he would have to find a way to break the curse soon, or else he would be doomed to suffer for eternity.