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~Even the brightest star must bow to the chosen, for this night is eternal, The power always demands a greater sacrifice ~ by Eva
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In the clouded heart of the ancient kingdom Safara shrouded in mist, where towering castles pierced the heavens and whispers of sorcery and forbidden desires echoed through cold stone walls, a singular event of dark allure was about to be unfolded.
It was a night unlike any other, a total lunar eclipse blanketed the world in blood-red hues, Acid rain falling in storms.
The night became known as the Eclipse Birth, a prophecy whispered in forbidden texts, foretelling the arrival of a creature that will be both feared and desired.
The castle's grand chamber was bathed in the crimson glow of the moon as Lady Willard writhed in agony upon the ornate birthing bed.
Her beauty, once the envy of kingdoms, had wilted under the weight of an unnatural pregnancy that sapped her strength with each passing day.
The pregnancy was like no other, one fortelled for years, decades and centuries finally bestowed them.
Around her, midwives whispered prayers and made symbols against the evil they felt but could not name.
Thunder growled and lightning destroyed across the skies as the moment of birth drew near. The air grew heavy, suffused with an otherworldly charge.
~°~
Every one present in that room fell down as an unxplainable force pressured the room, the castle's torches flickered, their flames trembling as though they, too, feared what was about to enter the world.
Willard's piercing screams tore through the night as the child emerged. The midwives froze, their faces pale with horror, for what lay in their arms was no ordinary infant.
The baby's skin was an otherworldly shade of red, crisscrossed with black stripes that seemed to shimmer like molten obsidian. Its eyes glowed like twin rubies, casting a hypnotic light that held everyone captive.
A child that was just born is supposed to still have it eyes closed but this infant looked straight ahead at the kid wife holding it.
Willard's breath faltered as she turned her gaze to her child. Her trembling lips whispered a single word, dripping with both despair and twisted adoration: "Azrath." And with that, her body fell still, leaving behind the haunting beauty of her lifeless form.
The room was silent, save for the soft cries of the newborn. The midwives dared not approach the child, for an inexplicable fear gripped them.
A shadow stirred in the corner of the chamber, and the castle's ancient lorekeeper, Eryndor, stepped forward.
"This child is the harbinger of the prophecy," he intoned, his voice shaking. "Born under the blood moon, the Red Prince of Eternity." He reached out to cradle the child, and as he did, Azrath's cries ceased, replaced by a quiet, penetrating stare.
The lorekeeper's voice quivered as he recited the forbidden prophecy:
"Born of death, a life of thirst,
The Crimson Child, in darkness cursed.
Under the moon's red sorrowed glow,
A fate of fire the world shall know."
Outside, the eclipse reached its zenith. The castle trembled, as though the very earth rebelled against the presence of this otherworldly being.
And then, it happened. The child floated. Suspended in mid-air, Azrath's tiny form began to emanate a faint, pulsating light. The black stripes on his skin seemed to shift and writhe like living shadows.
The midwives screamed and fled, leaving Eryndor alone with the child who defied all natural laws.
Azrath's mouth opened, revealing teeth far too sharp and present for a newborn. His first sound was not a cry but a haunting, otherworldly chuckle that echoed through the castle walls.
Eryndor's face twisted in both awe and terror. "This is no mere vampire. This is the end and the beginning."
~°~
As the eclipse faded and the world returned to its normal hues, the chamber fell into a deafening silence. But then, the infant Azrath turned his glowing eyes toward the castle's window, where a figure cloaked in shadows stood, watching with an expression of dark anticipation.
Who was this stranger, and what was their connection to the Crimson Child?
The story of Azrath was only beginning, and the world would soon learn that the prophecy was not a warning...it was a promise.
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