Let me weave you a tale that will echo in the corridors of time. This one? Oh, this one’s about a promise, a curse, and a bargain sealed with fire and fate.
The Veil of Serpent's Blood
It was in the wilds of the Enchanted Forest, where the trees whispered secrets older than even the Elves, that the legend of the Serpent's Blood began.
Many moons ago, long before even the Witch Queens of Westbrook were born, there existed a clan of shape-shifters known only as the Serpent-Kin. These creatures, born of blood and flame, could shift into beasts of the highest order—a serpent whose scales gleamed like emeralds, with eyes that burned with the fire of a thousand forgotten souls.
The Serpent-Kin were not known for their kindness. They were fierce, driven by a power so ancient that not even the oldest immortals dared cross their path. But among them was one who would change everything—Seraphine, the last of her bloodline.
Seraphine was not like the others. Her heart was soft in a world made of sharp edges, and her spirit, though strong, was not filled with the same ruthless fire that drove the rest of her kin.
But one thing she did have was a promise—an oath made to her mother, the high matriarch of the Serpent-Kin. The promise? That Seraphine would never, under any circumstance, fall in love with a mortal. For to do so would break the ancient magic that held the Serpent-Kin to their dark, forbidden pact.
Ah, but fate—like all things in 4EverMore—has a way of twisting its threads.
One fateful day, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the moonlit shadows stretched like endless rivers across the forest floor, Seraphine crossed paths with a mortal man—a hunter named Alaric. He was tall, with dark, brooding eyes that seemed to see straight through her, and a heart fierce enough to rival any of the beasts she had ever encountered.
Their first meeting was an accident, or so she thought. She had been hunting, her transformation into the serpent swift and deadly, when Alaric’s arrow grazed her side. The wound was not mortal, but the shock of being struck by a human—a creature so weak, yet so full of courage—was enough to send her spiraling into chaos.
He had saved her, not knowing who or what she was, and in doing so, had unknowingly sealed their fates.
Days turned into weeks, and their meetings became more frequent. Alaric would appear in the forest at dusk, always with a kind word, a smile, and a touch that made her heart flutter against all reason. Seraphine tried to resist, but the more she fought it, the more the pull between them grew.
It wasn’t long before she found herself breaking the one rule she had sworn to uphold. She fell in love.
But with that love came the curse.
The Serpent-Kin’s pact was simple: to love a mortal was to destroy everything. To love them meant breaking the very magic that kept the Serpent-Kin from fading into the void. And as the curse whispered in her ear, Seraphine knew that her love for Alaric would cost her everything—the life she had, the future she dreamed of, and the immortality she had known.
Yet, the curse had one saving grace. For if the Serpent-Kin truly chose to forsake their bloodline, to sever the magic that bound them, there was a price to pay—a single drop of blood, taken willingly, could undo the curse.
The day came, as it always does, when Seraphine stood at the edge of the Enchanted Forest, the weight of the world on her shoulders, her heart torn between love and the sacrifice required of her. Alaric stood before her, a man now with the same fire burning in his eyes that once danced only in hers.
"Seraphine," he said, his voice heavy with an unspoken truth, "we cannot fight this anymore. We’ve both known it, haven’t we? This bond between us…"
She took a step back, her serpent's gaze colder than ice. "You don’t know what you're asking."
"I do." His voice was soft but unwavering. "I know the price. I know the cost. But if it means you’re mine, I’ll pay any price. I’ll fight any curse. I’ll—"
But Seraphine shook her head, silencing him with a gesture.
"You will not. This curse is not yours to bear. It is mine."
And in that moment, she made her choice.
With a whisper of wind, she summoned her serpent form, twisting in the air, her scales shimmering with an ethereal glow. But as she shifted, her essence began to unravel. The forest seemed to hold its breath. The ground beneath her feet cracked open, and Alaric, desperate and heartbroken, reached out for her.
Seraphine, now only half-Serpent, half-woman, locked eyes with him. "You were always my fate, Alaric," she whispered, before the last breath of her magic shattered the world around them.
In the aftermath, Alaric was left standing alone. The forest was still. The Serpent-Kin were no more. And the legend of Seraphine, the last of her kind, was nothing more than a forgotten whisper among the leaves.
But sometimes, in the quietest moments of night, when the wind stirs the trees just so, you can still hear her voice, carried on the breeze.
A warning. A reminder.
That love, in all its glory, can either save you—or destroy you.
🩸🕊️
.jpg)
.jpg)
