Vaelstryx's Den

𝓦𝓮 𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽, 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓸𝓻, 𝓪 𝓖𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽.

𝒲𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝓊𝓃 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈.
𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓋𝑜𝒾𝒹 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝒹𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓈𝓁𝑒𝑒𝓅.

𝒲𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝓊𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓈, 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒𝒽𝑒𝓃𝒹...

𝒲𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝐹𝒾𝓃 𝒱𝓊𝓁𝑜𝓃 𝒩𝒾𝓂𝒶𝒶𝓇, 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒩𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝐼𝓉𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻.

𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓊𝓈, 𝓌𝑒 𝒹𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒽𝓊𝓇𝓉. 𝒲𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃'𝓈 𝓇𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇'𝓈 𝑒𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒.

𝒥𝑜𝒾𝓃 𝓊𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓈, 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓊𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓂 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹𝓇𝑒𝓃, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈. 𝒲𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓁𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑔𝑜𝓁𝒹...

𝓦𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓝𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓮...

The stories whispered of a land where the sun had long since abandoned the sky. A kingdom swallowed by eternal night, where stars glowed cold and distant, and the moon never waxed nor waned. It was said that the Midnight Pride ruled there, a pride of lions so steeped in shadow that even their hearts must have blackened with time. They were specters, demons in the skin of beasts, and their king...Vaelstryx...was whispered to be the worst of them all.

Few who sought the Midnight Pride ever returned, and those who did spoke only in hushed, trembling voices. They told of glowing eyes in the dark, voices like wind through dead trees, and a king whose mere presence could freeze the soul.

And yet, as you stepped into the dark, following the silent winged lioness who had found you, the air did not taste of death. The shadows did not choke. The darkness, though endless, was not empty.

Chilam, your ghostly guide, moved with effortless grace, her ivory wings folding and shifting as she walked. She never looked back, yet you could feel her certainty, as if she knew you belonged here. The further you traveled, the quieter the world became. The chirp of insects, the distant howl of wind, all swallowed by the hush of the Midnight Pride’s domain.

And then you saw him.

Vaelstryx stood upon an outcrop of dark stone, his figure limned in the silver light of the unmoving moon. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and unlike the nightmares told in fearful whispers, his form was not monstrous but regal. His mane, thick as storm clouds, held the luster of twilight, and his piercing eyes gleamed like shattered starlight.

When he spoke, his voice was rich with a cadence you could not place, touched with something foreign yet warm.

"Bienvenue, traveler," he rumbled, tilting his head. "You have wandered far to find ghosts, non? But tell me, do I look like a phantom to you?"

The truth settled in your chest like a quiet revelation. The Midnight Pride was not evil, not soulless creatures of the dark. They were merely unseen, unknown, misunderstood.

The king spoke again, softer this time:
"The night whispers truths the sun has blinded you to."

And as the shadows embraced you, you wondered if, perhaps, this was where you belonged all along.

/



Word from Strikefire~ If you haven't been told today, you matter, and you're loved, don't ever think otherwise! If you need to talk, vent or need some food or toys for your pride, don't be afraid to message me <3

Page Doll by TheLilRaptor!
https://www.lioden.com/lion.php?mid=264884