Ravenviel-A Story of MOONLIGHT AND VENGEANCE
GLIMPSES
“𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒔.”
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*Laughing and playing*
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*Smile widely and runs*
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*furrows* What happened?
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____ your days are now numbered.
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*Obsessed look*
If you can't mine then you can't be anyone's
*evil laugh*
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*Eyes Widened* *Whisper* He lied
???
*smiles sadly*
Let's meet again
“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭.”
𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌..
𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅
𝑫𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵...
𝑵𝑶 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑫 𝑶𝑭
𝑯𝒆 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅
𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑫
𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑬𝑫 𝑻𝑶 𝑫𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑶𝒀 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹𝒀𝑶𝑵𝑬
𝑾𝑯𝑶 𝑫𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑶𝒀𝑬𝑫 𝑯𝑬𝑹
𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞
𝑬𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎.
𝓢𝓱𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓪 𝓶𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓻𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓯𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓯𝓪𝓭𝓮, 𝓪 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓬𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓱𝓪𝓾𝓷𝓽 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝔀𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓮𝓻.
𝕴𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊, 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖘 𝖔𝖓𝖊, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑.
EP 1
Beneath a sky brushed in rose and gold, Serenith shimmered like a dream made real. Ivory towers kissed the clouds while laughter and music drifted through lantern-lit streets. Market stalls bloomed with color, and every heart beat in harmony beneath the castle’s gentle gaze. It was a kingdom of light and grace—where even the sunset seemed to pause, unwilling to leave such beauty behind.
It was a realm untouched by violence, where peace was not merely a virtue but a way of life. Harmony flowed through its streets like a living breath, binding hearts and homes alike. In Serenith, compassion was the crown its people wore, and the quiet grace of unity was the melody that never ceased to play.
In this serene realm lived a girl who believed the world beyond their borders was just as peaceful—gentle and kind, untouched by darkness. Unaware of the chaos that raged beyond Serenith’s golden gates, she dreamed of distant lands, never knowing that the world she longed to see was drenched in blood and built upon the echoes of endless battles.
ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴀᴜʀᴇʟɪᴀ ᴠᴀʟᴇᴍᴏɴᴛ
When she spoke, even nature seemed to still—birds paused mid-song, the wind hushed its whispers, and the world itself leaned closer, as if afraid to miss a single word from her lips.
She was the light that graced every hall of the palace — gentle yet radiant, the apple of her parents’ eyes. Her laughter could soften the sternest hearts, and her kindness knew no boundaries. To her people, she was a promise of all that was good in Serenith — a soul so pure that even the coldest day seemed warmer in her presence.
She was not merely a princess by blood, but the people’s own heart in royal form. To the kingdom, she was hope wrapped in grace — walking among them not as their ruler, but as one of their own. Every smile she offered felt like a blessing, and every word she spoke carried the warmth of home.
EP 2
“𝐓𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝, 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐓𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲.”
Nestled amidst towering, snow-clad peaks, the Dukedom of Blackspire stands as a fortress of strength and silence. Its dark stone towers pierce the mist, whispering tales of valor and vengeance. Where Serenith blooms in warmth and harmony, Blackspire thrives in resilience and command. It is a realm forged in frost and flame—where loyalty is sacred, and power, the heartbeat of its people.
It’s a place that breathes frost and silence, where the mountains stand like eternal sentinels and the wind carries tales of valor long forgotten. The Dukedom of Blackspire rests beneath a sky of silver clouds, its obsidian towers piercing the cold heavens. Forged in snow and shadow, it is a land where strength is not measured by words, but by the will to endure.
Its people walk with quiet pride, their hearts tempered like steel in the fires of hardship. In Blackspire, loyalty is sacred, and honor is carved deeper than stone. The chill may bite, but so does their spirit — unbroken, unyielding, and forever bound to the ancient promise of survival.
It’s a place that breathes frost and silence, where the mountains stand as timeless sentinels and shadows linger longer than the sun dares to. The Dukedom of Blackspire, ruled by the House of Ravenhart, is a land carved from ice, steel, and unbroken pride. Its ruler is known to be ruthless — a man unafraid of bloodshed, whose strength is measured in the echoes of war and conquest.
A stark contrast to Princess Aurelia of Serenith, whose heart was a melody of peace and warmth. Where her kingdom bloomed under sunlight, his thrived beneath storms. Yet destiny, with its cruel artistry, was already sketching their fates to collide — light and frost, love and ruin.
The name alone was enough to silence laughter and freeze courage. In the cold heart of Blackspire, he was not seen as a man, but a monster. Tales whispered of his cruelty, of blood that flowed like rivers wherever his banner rose. No one dared meet his gaze — eyes sharp as a blade, glinting with something darker than hatred: grief.
Feared by his people, respected by his soldiers, and cursed by those who crossed him, Thaddeus had long abandoned the warmth of humanity. The battlefield was his kingdom, and silence his crown. Yet beneath the armor, somewhere deep and buried, lingered a ghost of a man — the one he might have been, had the world shown him mercy.
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