The world was silent beneath a shroud of eternal night, broken only by the whisper of wind weaving through ancient, crumbling ruins. Beneath the ruined cathedral, far below where mortal eyes could see, lay a crypt sealed with iron chains and etched with sigils older than memory itself. This was no ordinary grave—it was a prison forged by the blood of a thousand betrayed allies, designed to hold a monster too dangerous to live.
Selene Vale's heart raced as she descended the spiral staircase, her torch casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of ancient dust and something darker, something primal. She had been warned countless times not to come here, but warnings never stopped her. Power never came without risk, and she was willing to gamble everything.
At the base of the crypt, she faced the iron-bound sarcophagus. Its surface was adorned with symbols of power and sealing magic. She knelt, placing a hand on the cold surface, feeling the dormant energy beneath. Her lips curled into a determined smile. "Time to wake up, prince."
Selene pulled a dagger from her belt, its blade gleaming with silver and etched runes. Without hesitation, she sliced across her palm, letting her blood spill onto the sigils. The crypt trembled as the ancient magic began to unravel. A low, ominous hum filled the air, growing louder with every drop of blood that seeped into the stone.
Suddenly, the chains snapped one by one, and the lid of the sarcophagus slid open with a deafening groan. A wave of cold, oppressive energy poured out, extinguishing the torch in Selene's hand. She stood in complete darkness, her breath caught in her throat. Then, two glowing crimson eyes opened, piercing the black void.
"You dare disturb my slumber?" a deep, velvety voice echoed through the crypt, dripping with disdain and arrogance.
Selene swallowed hard but didn't flinch. "Lucian Draven, prince of the Eternal Night. I've come to bring you back."
Lucian sat up slowly, his movements fluid and precise, like a predator awakening from a long hibernation. His pale skin glowed faintly in the darkness, and his black hair fell over sharp, angular features. Despite the centuries of imprisonment, he radiated an aura of raw power.
"And why," Lucian drawled, stepping out of the sarcophagus, "would a mere sorceress seek to free me? What could you possibly want?"
Selene lifted her chin, refusing to show weakness. "The clans are at war. The old order is crumbling. I need someone who can tip the balance, someone who can crush those who oppose me."
Lucian's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Ah, so you seek a weapon." He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "And you believe you can control me?"
Selene's pulse quickened, but she met his gaze without faltering. "I don't need to control you. I just need you to be who you are—a conqueror. Help me take down Ronan Blackthorn, and in return, I'll help you reclaim your throne."
Lucian chuckled, a cold, mocking sound. "Ambitious, aren't you? I could kill you right now and take what I want."
"You could," Selene admitted, "but I'm the only one who knows how to break the remaining seals on your power. Without me, you'll never be more than a shadow of what you once were."
For a long moment, silence hung between them, heavy with tension. Then, Lucian smiled—a cruel, predatory grin. "Very well, sorceress. I will play your game, for now. But remember this—" He leaned in, his voice a whisper of menace. "No one controls me."
Selene exhaled slowly, forcing herself to remain calm. "As long as you remember we're allies, not enemies."
Lucian turned, his eyes scanning the crypt. "Allies, is it? We shall see." He extended a hand, and shadows coiled around his fingers like living smoke. "Lead the way, Selene Vale. Let us see what remains of this world."
Together, they ascended the staircase, leaving the darkness behind. But as they emerged into the cold night, Selene couldn't shake the feeling that she had unleashed something far more dangerous than she could ever control.
And Lucian, for his part, relished the feeling of freedom once more. The world had forgotten him, but soon they would remember. Soon, the prince of the Eternal Night would rise again.