𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐞́𝐥𝐢𝐚.
In the frozen lands of Noctélia, where the mist chokes every cry and the forests seem to breathe death, two races waged an eternal war.
The Vampyrs, noble immortals corrupted by blood, ruled from their black citadels, built upon ancient bones.
Humans, the last children of the sun, sheltered behind sacred walls raised by the Church of the Sun, the final refuges against the eternal night.
Once every century, the Ashen Moon rose in the sky.
Its crimson glow made the Vampyrs stronger…
And the Humans more vulnerable.
At every rising of this cursed moon, the land drank the blood of thousands of souls.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧.
Once, the war had ceased.
For the king of the Vampyrs, Valerion Draven, had fallen in love with a human woman.
And that woman became queen: Althéa Solenor.
Their love was a scandal.
A blasphemy to the priests.
A betrayal to the vampyr nobles.
But for a few years, Noctélia knew a fragile peace.
Until the day Valerion discovered the truth.
Althéa had betrayed him.
With a man.
A human knight.
This betrayal was not only a broken heart.
It was the collapse of a kingdom.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐞.
Mad with rage, consumed by love and hatred, Valerion Draven gave the order.
An entire human city was razed.
Children were bled upon the steps of the temples.
Priests were nailed to the sacred doors.
Blood flowed through the streets like a black river.
That night, the Ashen Moon rose earlier than expected, as if drawn by the violence.
When the news reached the human throne, Queen Althéa Solenor did not weep.
She swore:
“There shall not remain a single vampire breathing beneath this sky.”
The war was reignited.
More violent than ever.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐲𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐬, 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞.
But their forbidden love had not been barren.
From the union of Vampyr and Human were born cursed beings:
the Hybrids, half-vampyr, half-human.
They walked beneath the sun without burning,
and tasted blood without losing their souls.
The Vampyrs saw them as abominations.
Humans as demons.
Hunted by both sides,
the Hybrids hid among the ruins,
forming secret clans, dreaming of overthrowing both crowns, for peace… or for chaos.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫.
Villages burned.
Human ramparts fell.
Vampyr citadels crumbled beneath blessed weapons.
The land of Noctélia knew no peace.
Only the clash of blades.
The cries of the dying.
And the eternal hunger for blood.
In the shadows, the Hybrids waited.
For when the Ashen Moon would rise once more,
they would emerge from the night.
And on that day…
it would no longer be a war between Vampyrs and Humans.
It would be the end of both kingdoms.

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