The Romanian mountains stretched like a sleeping dragon beneath the twilight sky, ancient and untamed. Elena Carter adjusted her scarf against the wind, the scent of pine and old stone clinging to the air. The ruins of Castle Valea loomed above her—a forgotten place, untouched for over two centuries, its silhouette jagged against the dimming heavens.
Twilight settled in layers across the forest, and with it came an unsettling silence, broken only by the crunch of dead leaves beneath her boots. She wiped a strand of dark hair from her face and pushed deeper into the undergrowth, each step deliberate. The crisp autumn air carried the faint scent of damp earth and moss, mingled with the distant murmur of a rushing stream. Somewhere behind her, the excavation team was still unloading equipment, their voices hushed as if afraid to speak too loudly.
"This is it," murmured Professor Marin, emerging from the trees and gesturing toward the cracked stones of an ancient crypt. "The sealed chamber lies just beneath."
Elena's heart skipped. She had waited years for a find like this—untouched, unexamined, buried in the folds of forgotten history. Yet even as her scholar's instinct urged her forward, another part of her—older, deeper—tugged with caution.
"Careful," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible above the wind. It wasn't just the wilderness she had to navigate, but the centuries of legend and superstition that cloaked this land like a shroud.
Elena was no ordinary historian. She was a specialist in the obscure—drawn to artifacts whispered about in folklore and feared by those who still believed. Her passion was uncovering truth buried in myth, but this place… this was different.
Valea Lupului—the Valley of the Wolf.
The village lay nestled in the shadow of the Carpathians, and the locals had greeted her presence with wary eyes and murmured prayers. They spoke of the Lycan Queen, a ruler cloaked in moonlight and mystery, said to command both beasts and men. According to local legend, she had vanished during a blood eclipse, leaving behind only a single artifact: a moonstone pendant, sealed away beneath Castle Valea.
And now, they had found it.
The descent into the crypt was steep and narrow, stone steps slick with moss and time. Inside, dust swirled in the flashlight beams like dancing spirits. The air was thick with age, heavy with a silence that pressed against the chest.
At the center of the chamber stood a stone pedestal, unmarked but purposeful. Resting atop it was a silver chain with a single moonstone pendant, its surface glowing with an inner, swirling light—soft blue hues that shifted like a storm behind clouds.
Elena stepped forward, drawn like a moth to flame. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears.
She crouched beside the pedestal, careful not to disturb the surrounding soil, and gently lifted the pendant from its resting place. Despite its time in the crypt, the metal was cool and polished, untouched by decay.
Her fingers tingled the moment they met the stone.
The sensation was subtle at first—like static beneath the skin—but quickly deepened into something stranger. A low hum threaded through her bones, and a whisper brushed the edge of her mind. It wasn't in any language she recognized, yet the melody felt... familiar. Ancient. Like a lullaby forgotten long ago.
Elena blinked hard and shook her head. "It's just your imagination," she muttered, but the words lacked conviction.
Behind her, the local guide's voice broke through the silence. "Don't touch it!" he snapped, stepping forward with alarm. "That pendant is cursed. It belonged to her—the Lycan Queen. No good comes from waking what should sleep."
But Elena barely heard him. The stone pulsed faintly in her palm, syncing with her heartbeat. It was as if something—someone—was reaching out. Not just calling her, but recognizing her.
And though she didn't know why… she felt the same.
She looked up at Professor Marin, who stood silently at the edge of the chamber, his face unreadable in the flickering light. He didn't stop her. No one did.
Ignoring the warning in the guide's tone and the knot tightening in her chest, Elena's fingers brushed the center of the moonstone.
For the briefest instant, the chamber shuddered—just a flicker in the air, like a ripple across still water. Her vision blurred.
Then the floor fell away.
A flash of silver light engulfed her as the pendant flared in her grasp. A wind roared through the chamber, though there was no opening above. Dust and voices swirled into chaos.
"Elena!" someone called—but the sound was distorted, distant.
And then—
Silence.
Elena Carter was gone.