☽ 𝔄 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔚𝔬𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔰 ☾【кαℓαfιиα х chєvαlíєr】

[Chevalier]

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Deep within the land of shadows exists a terrible castle, an ominous spire that looms over the misty horizon. It is a land that none dare travel to, a realm often believed to be nothing more than a folktale to scare the children at night. They couldn't be more wrong, however, as the Realm of Wolves is very real indeed and those who forget this are doomed to meet a terrible fate. The Lycan Lords that reside within this dark land may possess unrivaled power and immortality, but can only bear cubs with those unaffected by their curse. It is because of this, that the wolves often conquer other kingdoms and people, to enslave their men and women to be brought back as slaves for their own amusement.

It matters not what walk of life the person came from. A highborn Elf princess or a lowly human farmer; once the chain has been placed around their neck, they are nothing more than flesh to be claimed by their better masters. Prey whose only purpose is to serve the hunters. The only thing that matters is their bodies and how long they can appease their masters before the wolves grow tired of them. While many new slaves detest the idea of wearing a collar, they learn quickly that the collar around their necks are their only protection - for a slave that wears a collar has been claimed by another and by law, cannot be touched by anyone other than their master. Any slave that loses their collar becomes a slave for public use... and is often met with a horrible fate.

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In the land of shadows, not even the sun dare rises.
​

Moving through the darkness, nearly a hundred figures slowly ascended the steep steps that led up to the castle. Chained to one another, the frightened souls that moved closer to the castle were merely the most recent slaves brought in from newly conquered lands. An arrangement of foreign beauties from many different races, mostly women, ascended the slopes to meet their new home... their new masters. Watching from above were the large silhouettes of werewolves, each of which stood almost a foot taller than the average human and many times wider - with catlike eyes that pierced vividly through the darkness. The wolves said nothing as the slaves marched up the steps, their horrifying, bestial forms foreshadowing the events that were to come. None of these souls would ever see their true homes again.

The slaves were brought up the stairs and into the castle, forced to walk through a labyrinth of dark corridors. On the way, many of the household slaves stopped and bowed respectfully for the new arrivals. It went without saying that new arrivals often took the attention away from the older slaves, giving many of them a break from the constant horrors they faced every day. After being led through the castle, the group eventually found themselves in a large throne room, with massive columns reaching towards a ceiling that they couldn't even see. At the center of the room stood a single wolf and surrounding them, many more of his kind.

"Welcome to the Land of Wolves." A deep, grizzly voice emanated from the center wolf, no doubt the leader of this castle. The voice was far from human, but still understandable all the same. "I am King Fenrir, the Lord of this Castle. Some of you were brought here through war, others were given up as offerings to save their people. Some of you are Princesses, Queens... others are not." The beast explained, as he had done hundreds of times before. "But it matters not, here you are slaves... here you will learn that without your collars, you are nothing." Fenrir motioned across the room, "Each of the Lords and Ladies in this room have a single collar. They will choose one of you to take as their own. However there are fifty of us and nearly one hundred of you. Those that do not have a collar will be given to the rest of the pack and their lives will be forfeit."

Stepping down from his throne, a slave handed the werewolf a dark leather collar. Taking the object into his hand, he began to move up and down the ranks of slaves before pointing towards one. "You." He tossed the collar to her feet. "Put this on."

 

[Kalafina]

Just like most of the females, and even some men, who were being dragged around in leashes, collars and chains, Annabeth was now reduced to the state of a mere slave. She knew what slaves are, what they were meant to be. She came from a kingdom where vampires, just like her, ruled over any other race living within their territory. Not only that, but she had been a noble herself. So she was rather familiar with this kind of procedures. Whoever, the wolves came. During the day even, which was worse. Most men were killed. And the female vampires who seemed to fit in with their tastes were taken alive and forced to bear with all the humiliation their new status would bring them. Especially those as proud and conceited as Annabeth herself was.

Rather reluctantly, the young, twenty-four year old vampire (well, in human years, of course. As an immortal she had already been alive for more than a century) followed the rest of the prisoners throughout the whole, dark, long corridors, her head hanging low, her piercing gaze focused solely on the floor. She refused to give those damned wolves the privilege of seeing her like that, of meeting her humiliated gaze. They may have lost the war. She might have become nothing but a mere slave. But she still had her pride. She had even attempted to struggle and fight back at first, which had earned her some bruises and slashes here and there. All of those mostly healed by now, of course. But between the hunger for blood dominating her whole, thing figure and the lack of allies within those walls, Annabeth had eventually realized it wasn't wise to keep fighting a lost cause. No, she had to remain alive, for as long as she possibly could. At least until she found a way of getting out of the wolves' grasp and managed to make all of them pay for everything.

She finally was made to kneel in front of a prominent figure, most likely the lord of the castle. From the looks of the room in question, that was likely the case. And finally looked up when the wolf calling himself "Fenrir" spoke, glaring at him with all her might. Her glare didn't fade, not even when a collar was thrown at her and she was ordered to put it on. "Make me you damned wolf." She finally said, attempting to spit at the taller male's feet. But before she could keep talking, a pair of guards came to her and slapped her on the face, slamming her head and chin against the ground while holding her still, forcing her to apologize. After that, both guards apologized themselves to their revered lord and let go of her, hoping the rather rebellious vampire had learned her lesson. Rather reluctantly, Annabeth finally grabbed the collar in question and adjusted it around her thin neck, not without grimacing first. Although it wasn't a result of feeling the cold metal against her own pale, sensitive skin. But rather due to the humiliating act of wearing such an unfitting accessory on her own noble persona.

"Are you content now?" The vampire finally inquired while folding her arms and looking away, wondering what would be happening to her next. One thing was certain: that wolf standing in front of her was meant to become her new master.

 

[Chevalier]

This new slave had quite the spirit. It seemed that the Wolf King had chosen his new prey well, for the ones that were the most determined and proud were certainly the ones that were the most fun to break. Fenrir watched as the lithe creature defied him, a grin stretched across his scarred, bestial face as the woman was soon reminded of the consequences of her defiance. Pinned to the ground and forced to don the collar she had been given. She may have hated it now, but she would soon learn to respect the King of Wolves, for that was the fate of all slaves. "You may have seen many things during your life, Vampire, but you will soon find joy in your new calling." The creature spoke confidently. Indeed, Fenrir had owned many slaves and Annabeth was not the first to defy him, nor would she be the last.

"I am satisfied with my prize. Let us hope that she doesn't break too quickly." The King of Wolves stepped down from his throne, where one of the guards handed him the metal chain attached to the Vampire's collar. The many Wolf Lords bowed for their King, thanking him for the prizes that they would soon lay claim to. Fenrir didn't spare the Vampire even a single glance before pulling her along, his monstrous strength giving the small Vampire no choice but to comply or be dragged across the floor like a wounded animal. The large King moved quickly, the beast's great legs gliding with long steps as he strode through the spacious halls of the castle. Upon seeing the King of Wolves for the first time, one could quickly understand why the palace walls were so wide and the doorways so tall - as the Werewolf stood just shy of eight feet tall and many feet wide. Even among the other great Wolf Lords, Fenrir was among the largest, towering over the tiny Vampire which dragged behind him with each step.

Moving through the hallways, the pair eventually came to a stop. Two slaves stood on either side of a wide door, quickly opening the doors inwards before stepping out of the way and bowing for their King. They were now in the King's personal bed chambers... and a single glance through the room showed that the Wolf King lived a luxurious life from his conquests. Lavish furnishings were spread about the large room, with many doors that potentially led off to other rooms or closets dotting each corner. Several figures that were scattered about the room immediately stood from their positions so that they too could bow for their King. "Welcome, Master," the women each remarked in unison. There were approximately six of them, each one dressed in the same, see through robe that left very little to the imagination and a bra that covered even less. These were the King's Wives, a harem of slaves much like Annabeth would soon become, each one broken and obedient.

The women said nothing as Annabeth was dragged into the room and thrown unceremoniously against the ground. "Remove her clothes." The King ordered, grinning as the women obeyed their master's command. The slaves approached the Vampire, tearing off her shirt before casting the pieces of the now tattered dress scattered across the floor. Annabeth would have little use for her noble clothes in her new profession. Once the deed was done, the slaves sat themselves on their knees beside Annabeth, each one waiting for their King to reveal the thing that he would use to break the new slave, for it was the same thing that had been used to break each of them.

"Rejoice, whore. For you will soon learn to love this." The Werewolf King announced.