Sunlight streamed through the grand stained-glass windows of Castle Dracul, casting multicolored light across the sprawling hall. The air buzzed with warmth and celebration. Nobles, farmers, Faunus, and humans alike mingled together—laughing, sharing drink, and celebrating the years of peace that Stella and Katchia had cultivated in Drakvania.
At the head of the room stood Stella, adorned not in armor, but in a flowing black and crimson dress, with Katchia gracefully at her side, and little Ingeris seated nearby, gnawing on a honeyed apple.
Dimitri, Drakvania's beloved elder statesman, raised his goblet high.
Dimitri: To Lady Stella Dracul, who has proven in the past 10 years to all the world that Drakvania is not a land divided, but a home shared. A land of peace. A land where Faunus and Humans drink from the same cup.
He paused, his smile kind.
Dimitri: And may we be blessed with twenty more years of peace under her reign!
The crowd erupted with cheers, raising their cups in unison.
Crowd: To Lady Stella!
Laughter, music, and joy filled the grand hall... until—
The heavy creak of the great iron doors echoed across the stone chamber, silencing the celebration in an instant.
All eyes turned. Stella's sharp gaze locked onto the figures entering — Vacuan soldiers, their armor dust-stained and glinting under the torchlight. At their front, a tall man in ornate armor, his cloak bearing the sigil of the Sultan of Vacuo.
Stella's expression didn't falter. Calm. Regal. Dangerous.
She stepped forward.
Stella: Drakvania welcomes all guests. State your purpose.
The Vacuan Commander inclined his head respectfully.
Commander: I bring greetings from His Majesty, Sultan Mehmed II. His salutations to you, Lady Dracul... to your wife, Lady Katchia... and to your son.
Katchia stiffened beside her, ever watchful.
Stella: We are honored. And what brings the Sultan's shadow so far north to Drakvania?
The Commander smiled thinly.
Commander: His Majesty is curious... intrigued by the famed Silverlight Dust of these mountains. He wishes to understand its properties—and, perhaps, to share in its bounty.
Stella nodded gracefully.
Stella: If it pleases the Sultan, he may take as much Silverlight Dust as he deems worthy of tribute. We have no quarrel with Vacuo.
A flicker of amusement crossed the Commander's eyes.
Commander: Most generous.
But then his tone darkened.
Commander: However... a battalion of our scouts was reported missing.
The hall grew tense. Stella's voice remained even.
Stella: I did not kill your scouts.
The Commander chuckled lowly. Then, switching to a forgotten desert dialect — one few in the world still knew — he murmured in a voice meant for Stella alone.
Commander (in Vacuan dialect): We heard the stories about you. The girl who massacred her whole village for the Faunus. The woman you were that day still lives in you, doesn't it?
Stella's eyes turned cold as frost.
Stella (in the same dialect): Take your tribute. Leave in peace.
The Commander smiled like a snake.
He turned to go... but paused.
Commander: Ah, one last thing.
He faced the crowd again.
Commander: His Majesty requires a levy of 1,000 boys from Drakvania... to be raised in service of the Sultan's Janissary corps.
Gasps erupted. Anger simmered like fire catching wind. The Faunus especially roared in outrage.
Stella (coldly): Janissaries? That practice was outlawed decades ago.
Unbothered, the Commander spoke with terrifying calm.
Commander: When taken young, they know no other life. They will kill without question, and die without complaint.
One of the Vacuan soldiers stepped toward a Faunus boy in the crowd, gripping his chin appraisingly. The boy's father slapped the soldier's hand away.
Father: Touch my son again, and—!
The soldier snarled, grabbing the father's arm and reaching for his blade.
But faster than thought — faster than breath — Stella was there.
She slammed the soldier into the stone wall with the full force of her aura-backed strength. The hall shook.
Stella (Vacuan dialect): Do you know who I am?
The soldier coughed, bloodied but defiant.
Soldier: (same dialect) You mean who you were.
Her grip tightened. For a moment, death hung in the air like a blade poised to fall.
Then Stella released him, letting him crumple to the ground.
The Commander smiled darkly.
Commander: The Sultan expects obedience, Lady Dracul. Do not disappoint him.
With that, the Vacuan soldiers turned and marched from the hall, their presence lingering like a stain on the air.
As the doors closed behind them, the hall burst into angry voices. Cazan approached Stella.
Cazan: It must be done. Courage, anger, and even love. None of these can matter to a Princess. All that matters is her duty to her people.
Stella looked back at Katchia as she spoke to Ingeris.
The soft crackle of the fireplace filled the quiet room. Shadows from the flames danced along the stone walls, casting a warm glow over the chamber. Stella sat at the edge of Ingeris' bed, carefully tucking the thick wool blankets around her son.
Ingeris, his small Faunus ears twitching slightly atop his head, looked up at her with curious, thoughtful eyes.
Ingeris (softly): Mama... what does it mean to be a royal hostage?
Stella's hands stilled for a moment. The question pierced deeper than he could understand.
She sat back, brushing a few strands of hair from his face, her expression unreadable — the look of someone who had seen too much of the world too soon.
Stella (quietly): It means...
She took a breath, her voice lowering to that calm, steady tone she always used when she wanted him to understand.
Stella: When kingdoms go to war, they sometimes send their sons and daughters away... to live in the court of their enemy. They say it's to keep the peace. But it's really a promise sealed in blood.
Ingeris frowned.
Ingeris: And if war comes anyway?
Stella's jaw tightened, but she answered truthfully.
Stella: Then those children... are the first to die. They're told it's an honor. That their death would prove their loyalty to their kingdom.
Ingeris stared up at her, quiet for a long moment.
Ingeris (softly): Would you give me to the Sultan?
The question stabbed through her heart like a knife. She leaned down, pressing a fierce, protective kiss to his forehead, lingering longer than usual.
Stella (firmly): No. Never. You have nothing to worry about.
She cupped his cheek, her thumb tracing the soft skin there.
Stella (whispered): Do you understand?
Ingeris smiled sleepily, comforted by the weight of her words.
Ingeris: Okay, Mama.
His eyes slowly fluttered shut, trusting without question, trusting like only a child could.
Stella watched him for a long moment, her heart both aching and burning with resolve. Then, rising silently, she left the room, pulling the door closed behind her with a soft click.
The room is dimly lit by candlelight, the flames swaying gently in the breeze seeping through the open balcony doors. Outside, the distant howl of the wind carried the cold of an uncertain future. Inside, the silence between Stella and Katchia was heavy — the kind born not of absence, but of thought.
Katchia, her long hair cascading over her nightgown, sat cross-legged on the bed, her amber eyes fixed on her wife, who stood near the window. Stella, dressed in a loose tunic, leaned on the window frame, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, eyes lost in the vast night.
Katchia (gently): What are you thinking, my love?
Stella's jaw clenched, her voice low, burdened with the weight of consequence.
Stella: If I defy the Sultan's orders, the Vacuans won't just retaliate. They'll massacre us. A hundred for every child I protect. A thousand for every soldier I strike. That's how they operate. That's how they've always operated.
Katchia rose from the bed, walking barefoot across the stone floor. She wrapped her arms gently around Stella's waist from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder.
Katchia (softly): What if... what if you stood before the Sultan. Made a plea — not as the Red Queen... not as a warrior... but as a mother, a leader.
Stella turned slightly, her eyes searching Katchia's face.
Stella: You think mercy lives in a heart like his?
Katchia: I think the woman I fell in love with can find a way to make even tyrants listen. He already fears you, Stella. That means he respects your power. You may be the only one who can make him see reason.
Stella looked back out into the night, the stars glinting cold and far away.
Katchia moved to face her, placing her hand over Stella's heart.
Katchia: Remember, you are not who you used to be.
Stella stared at her, quiet for a moment... then gave the faintest nod.
Katchia's lips curled into a sad, proud smile.
They leaned in, foreheads touching, as the wind whispered through the stone arches like an omen.
The midday sun was swallowed by a thick veil of stormy clouds as Stella Luna rode through the heavy wooden gates of the Vacuan base. The camp was a formidable sprawl of canvas tents, watchtowers, and steel. Hundreds of soldiers patrolled with their sheathed blades and eyes like hawks. They parted only slightly for the arrival of the Red Queen.
Dimitri, at her side, rode with a tense grip on his reins. His eyes scanned the crowd, the insignias of Vacuo catching his gaze.
Dimitri (under his breath): One day soon, they'll repaint the world in their image... and no one will stop them.
Stella said nothing. Her face was a mask of calm, though her heart thundered like war drums beneath her ribs. Her dark cloak billowed behind her like wings as they dismounted at the largest tent in the center of the camp.
Two armed guards opened the tent flaps. Inside, a rich aroma of spices and incense filled the air. The Sultan of Vacuo, Mehmed II, stood before a great map of Remnant laid across a table. Around him, generals whispered in a foreign tongue, their eyes flicking to Stella as she entered.
Mehmed (with a warm smile): Ah... the Red Queen graces our camp. Come, Lady Stella. Share tea with me.
Stella gave a curt nod. She stepped forward and accepted the porcelain cup with grace, sitting across from the Sultan as his men fell into a tense silence.
The tea was spiced and bitter, like the atmosphere around them.
Mehmed: I've heard many tales of you, Stella Luna. The massacre at your village... the red that stained the ground. Although, the more gruesome details of what you did still terrify many.
Stella's gaze stayed locked to his, unmoving.
Mehmed (curious): But one part always puzzled me... why spare your mother? Why leave a witness?
Stella (calm, low): Because the others wore masks of humanity. They were monsters — every man, woman, and child who cheered while my friends burned. But my mother... she was the only one who wept. The only one who ever truly saw me.
Mehmed nodded slowly, swirling his tea.
Mehmed: Blind rage. A weapon more powerful than Dust or blade. I forge my soldiers in that fire. The ones who survive... become gods of war.
He leaned forward, placing his cup down.
Mehmed: Which reminds me... where are my 1,000 boys?
The generals turned toward her. Stella took a slow breath.
Stella: I came to offer tribute. Dust. Gold. Steel. Even myself. My name alone inspires fear. Take me — and the world will kneel before you.
A murmur rippled through the room. Mehmed considered her, a glint of amusement behind his dark eyes.
Mehmed: True. You would be the perfect blade at my side. But kingdoms are not won with one sword, no matter how sharp. I need soldiers. Boys, I can mold. A thousand of them.
Stella's grip tightened on her cup, knuckles whitening.
Stella (quietly): There must be something else. Anything. Just... not the children. Drakvania is a peaceful people.
Mehmed: And yet you have soldiers and weapons.
Stella: We must have a means of defending ourselves from the Grimm. Drakvania is closest to the forbidden lands of the Grimm.
Mehmed stood, walking slowly around the table. He stopped behind her.
Mehmed (softly): I will have my 1,000 boys. And one more.
Stella's breath caught. She didn't turn, but her voice dropped to a whisper.
Stella: No.
Mehmed (casually): Your son, Ingeris. I'll raise him beneath my roof, mold him into a prince of blades.
Stella (sharply): Please, don't do this.
Mehmed (with a shrug): He is just one son. You and your wife — perhaps you can make another.
The teacup in Stella's hand shattered.
She stood slowly, a cold fury in her eyes.
The tent fell into silence. Mehmed gave her a slight nod, a devil's grin on his lips.
Mehmed: General Ismail will make sure my orders are carried out for the 1,000 boys. But I shall send General Hamza Bey to collect your son.
Stella turned, her cloak snapping behind her as she strode from the tent. The storm outside had begun to break.
The wind whispered over the quiet plain as a single tree stood sentinel beneath the pale sky. Its leaves rustled like anxious breaths as Stella stood beneath it, motionless, her long coat swaying in the breeze. Her eyes, unwavering and cold, were locked onto the approaching carriage rolling along the dirt path. Dust clouded its wheels as Dimetri and Cazan steered it toward her.
The carriage halted several paces away. Stella stepped forward as the door opened and Katchia emerged, clutching Ingeris tightly by the hand.
Further in the distance, on the opposite side of the field, General Hamza Bey and five Vacuan soldiers waited on horseback. They laughed among themselves, completely at ease.
Katchia's eyes darted across the field to them. Her expression twisted in panic, her voice strained and rising.
Katchia (to Stella, desperate): You promised me. You promised this would never happen! You swore you'd protect him!
Stella moved to her, hands up in calm assurance, but her voice struggled to match it.
Stella: Katchia, please—
Cazan (interjecting, firm): If you don't act now, you'll start a war. We can't afford that.
From afar, Hamza Bey and his soldiers erupted into soft, mocking laughter.
Dimetri stepped forward, resting a hand on Katchia's shoulder.
Dimetri: Katchia, come on.
Katchia: No!
Stella turned without another word and began walking toward Hamza Bey, the wind catching her coat as her boots crunched the dry grass. Her fingers unclasped the buckle holding her sword, and she let it fall to the ground halfway between the two groups.
Hamza Bey watched her closely, his fingers tensing near his hilt.
Behind Stella, a small voice rose over Katchia's sobs.
Ingeris (shouting): I'll go!
Katchia gasped, trying to hold him back, but Ingeris broke free and ran to Stella, clutching her arm tightly when he reached her.
Ingeris (quietly, scared): I can do it. You're proud of me, aren't you?
Stella's throat tightened. She knelt to his height and brushed back his dark curls.
Stella: Of course I am. Braver than any soldier. Stronger than any king.
Behind them, Katchia trembled, her eyes wide as she watched mother and son approach the soldiers.
Hamza Bey straightened in his saddle with satisfaction.
Hamza Bey (grinning): You have chosen wisely. Though I admit... we were hoping for a bit of a fight.
But Stella didn't move any closer. Instead, she knelt again beside her son and whispered in his ear.
Stella (softly): Run, Ingeris. Run to your mother.
Ingeris (confused): What?
Stella (firmly): NOW!
Ingeris turned and sprinted back toward Katchia just as Hamza Bey reached for his blade—too late.
With a burst of motion, Stella surged forward. In a blink, her hidden dagger sliced clean through Hamza's forearms, severing both at the elbow. The general's scream curdled the air before Stella grabbed his scimitar and, with a swift turn, drove it clean through his chest.
Katchia held Ingeris tightly, turning him away as blood sprayed across the field.
The soldiers lunged, but Stella was faster. She became a blur of steel and rage, dodging and striking with clinical precision. One by one, they fell — throats cut, chests pierced, spines shattered. Within moments, five Vacuan soldiers lay dead in the grass, their blood soaking the dirt beneath them.
The wind howled as Stella stood in the silence, the last body slumping to the ground at her feet. Her hands trembled. She looked down at them, breathing hard.
Cazan (stepping forward, grim): Mehmed will punish all of Drakvania for what you have done.
Stella turned, walking slowly back to Katchia and Ingeris. Her voice was tired, but resolute.
Stella: It isn't a child's place to save his home.
She looked to Dimetri and Cazan.
Stella (commanding): Take them back to the castle. Now.
Cazan (desperate): Mehmed will send others. You can't protect us!
Stella didn't answer right away. Her gaze turned to the jagged silhouette of Broken Tooth Mountain on the horizon. The clouds gathered thick and low above its cursed peak.
Stella (quietly, to herself): I'll find a way.
She mounted her horse, blood still streaked across her coat and hands. Cazan called out to her:
Cazan: Stella, where are you going?
Stella (without looking back): Whatever haunts Broken Tooth... it kills Vacuans.
With that, she spurred her horse forward, racing toward the looming dark mountain, her cloak like the wings of a shadow passing overhead.