Transylvania's Own

Long after the infamous Prince of Darkness was said to have been killed, a new reign begins with a beautiful young Princess named Ilona Arcos who finds the diary kept by the viscous Prince.

The Princess born in the Light, and the Prince created in the Darkness

 

Transylvania's Own: First Mistake

-Ilona Arcos-

1893

 

December 19, 1476

To whomever reads this,

Beware. I am not as it seems. 

I am no warrior of God like the Transylvanian people called me from the day I was born in 1431. I am Darkness reincarnated. I am pain. I am the Devil. All because of them and what they've done to me. 

 

I will never be the same.

~D

 

A book from my personal library entitled simply, “The Order” read grimly. Each line seemed to be written in blood by a skilled hand and dried in the fear of another dawning day. It was a gift from one of my father's high priests. He said it would dismiss my nightmares, explain my aches and pains, and push me to succeed as a ruler of our beautiful Transylvania. But who wrote these entries? How was this supposed to help me when each night I found myself sitting in my window, gazing out at the castle on the top of the mountain? The castle the Order of the Dragon forbade me to visit. Direct orders or not, my need to see the inside of those beautiful stone walls for myself never stopped. If anything, the prohibition of stepping foot on its hauntingly astonishing grounds made me want to go all that much more. 

 

At a very young age, the gothic beauty of its appearance seemed to call to me. As if beckoning me to disobey the orders of not only my parents but that of the Order itself. I swear to this day, I can hear my name as if by someone next to me were whispering to me as I watch the summer breeze bend the trees in the forest around the grounds. Chills run through my body as I recall this, captivated by its wonder yet again when a maid touches my arm. 

 

                "I don't mean to startle you, Princess, but your mother has summoned you to her quarters." She calls sweetly from the chamber door as she closes it, her thick Hungarian accent dripping into every word she said, offering me a tight smile. Her eyes are a dull grey, odd for her normally beautifully faded blue. She was hiding something. I nod understandingly and stand, lying the book on the bed. She hurries to pull off my cream colored nightgown, slide a crisp white slip over my long wavy black hair, and work on retying and tightening my corset. I hold onto my bed post, trying not to giggle as she tightens the strings, and pull on my favorite black and red gown. I roll up my stockings and quickly pin half of my hair up as she buttons the sides of my heeled boots up my calves. I smile thankfully and hug her. She was young, almost my age of 21 and didn't deserve to be working so hard for my parents. 

 

                "Thank you Magdalene." I whisper, squeezing her hand as we walk out of my quarters and down the hall toward my mother's. She stops me a few feet from the door and looks at me apologetically. Her long blonde hair pulled tight into a bun, her skin seemed all too pale and her eyes begging me to be nice to whatever was awaiting me. 

 

                "Princess, you mean a great deal to me and I'd do anything for you, but your mother, she-she has a suitor for you. I've been around you long enough to know you won't, but please, just be nice for your mother. I'm afraid she'll force you to wed one of these men and I believe you should make a King out of a man you love as much as you love Transylvania. Please-" She mutters softly when my mother cuts her off, opening her chamber door and glaring sharp daggers at her.

 

                "Ah, there you are my dear. It's about time Magdalene brought you to me." She scorns in a sickly sweet tone. She glares at Magdalene once more and shoos her off impatiently. I nod toward her, letting her know I'd do my best, and walk into my mother's quarters with her. 

 

                "Ilona, this is Lord Cambridge. He's come all the way from London to meet you." She gushes, sitting on her day bed beside him. He stands in his navy blue tux, smoothing his golden vest, buttoning one button on his coat, and moves to kiss my hand. I sigh under my breath and give him my hand. His deep brown eyes wondered over my body as if hungry for my attention as he takes it. I curtsy to him and notice his wavy brown hair was thinning quite terribly in the center of his head. The wrinkles in the corners of both his eyes seemed to be carved by swords. He was a tall man with as much of a belly as a pot belly pig. When he breathes, I watch wearily of the button on his trousers should it pop off and hit a mirror. 

 

                "You're quite astonishing, Princess." He whispers over my hand, kissing it for much too long. His breath seemed to carry his heavy English accent across my skin, making me shiver in an uncomfortably alarming way. He smiles as he lets my hand go and I immediately want to vomit. His teeth were rotting with a yellowing tint from the cigarettes I now recognize on his breath. I beg him internally to stop smiling, or even better yet, for my mother to dismiss me.

 

                "Ilona, my dear, Mr. Cambridge will be announcing his engagement to you tomorrow night at the annual Transylvanian celebration's ball. Aren't you excited?" My mother exclaims excitedly, walking toward us. She takes our hands and folds them together over each other, smiling at us. The feeling of this stranger's hand over mine with those terrifying words made me shiver. I couldn't do this. I rip my hand away from his and hurry out toward my quarters. I grab my cloak, shoving my book into its pocket, and run back out looking for any escape at all.

 

                "Ilona!" My mother calls after me, trying to grab my arm before I could reach the grand staircase. 

 

                I pull out of her reach, rushing down the stairs as I tie the black hooded blanket around my neck, and out the front door of our Castle. Magdalene was right. Why was it so hard for her to understand I wasn't ready to be Queen let alone married? And why did I have to be married to a man I didn't know or love? I pull the hood up over my head to shade my face, hurrying off the grounds and into town. I didn't want to be found tonight. I read my book as I walk the seemingly empty streets, when I realize the sun was quickly being covered by large dark clouds.

 

 

To whomever reads this,

I know now what these self-proclaimed men of God have turned me into. A bloodthirsty animal. Seems fitting for a warrior of my stature. Apparently protecting my country wasn't viewed as 'acceptable' by The Order or their God. I took them to the top, lead them to victory with every battle. What did they expect? For the battles to be won with unicorn fluff and angel dust? No. I was raised a Prince. A man of honor who would gladly die by the blade, but not without a fight. Oh no. What fun would that be? So if you're reading this, and you're a part of that disgusting excuse for a church coven called The Order of the Dragon, I will kill you for what you've done to me. You should've thought long and hard before giving the Devil a true vessel. Now the streets of Transylvania will be painted with your blood. 

 

Heed my warning. I'm coming.

~D

 

 

The next entry read when a shadow covered the dark print. I look up and notice a tree. Rows upon rows of trees in a seemingly never ending forest. I mark the page I was on, slipping the book back into my pocket, and look around for a sign of life or any inclination of where I am. Other than the worn down path I stood on through a forest of tall trees, there was none. Until a wolf howls nearby. My heart jumps into my throat as blood rushes into my ears. I run, hearing twigs and branches breaking behind me. 

 

                "Ilona...come home..." I hear a familiar voice whispers. Panic sets in as I realize it was the same voice I heard whenever I hear the gothic castle on the mountain calling my name. I keep running, picking up the end of my dress and pushing myself faster. I can hear the huffs of the hot breaths heaving from the wolf as it nears me when I suddenly stumble and trip over a plank of wood from a manmade bridge. I was too afraid to look up or move too quickly once the scratching of the wolf's nails against the wood echo behind me. I curl into a ball, covering my head, and close my eyes tight.

 

As if I were a child again, thinking the darkness of my eyelids hid me from the beast, my oxygen is cut off when sharp searing pain rips through my calf. I scream out, the pain giving me enough of an adrenaline boost to try to claw at the wooden bridge, and look around for a weapon. Afraid to see the wolf gnawing at my leg, I refuse to look behind me, when I notice what it was that stood in front of me. The gothic castle on top of the mountain. Bran Castle. The pain dulls slightly as a low growl irrupts behind me. I can hear the wolf whimper and back away from me. Out of fear of something bigger, I stretch and grab a fallen branch near me, swinging it behind me to hopefully hit whatever scared the deadly beast.

 

                "Come now, my dear. Do you really want to be swinging such heavy objects with such a ghastly injury?" The man standing behind me utters, catching the limb before it could hit him. He tosses it to the side and picks me up, one arm under my knees and the other around my waist. 

 

                "Let's get you inside, shall we?" He hums, moving swiftly up the bridge and into the courtyard of the castle. He was a God all his own with deep chocolate brown hair that match the soul patch in the center of his chin under his bottom lip well and made his grey-blue eyes pop under his semi-tan skin. The man's mere bone structure made me quiver knowing it be paired perfectly with his greatly compact mounds of muscle. He couldn't have been more than 30 years old. I lie my head on his shoulder as my vision starts to blur, my heart still racing in my ears from the adrenaline rush and panic. 

 

                "Don't fight it, my dear. Go to sleep. I'll wake you when I've fixed your leg." He whispers, stepping into the beautiful castle. Even with the allure of the castle and the need I have to see it, I can't bring myself to keep my eyes open.  

 

No matter how tired my panic made me before passing out, I can't sleep. I finally stood inside the castle I had longed to see since I was a child and my body just refuses to rest. Electricity flows through every inch of my body, making every sensation just that much more powerful. After the man had fixed my injured leg, I was made to get ready for bed. He said it had been a long day for both of us and that my beloved Transylvania would be waiting for us in the morning when I was rested and healed enough to go home. The problem was, even with the silk white nightgown I woke up in on, I still wasn't ready to go to bed. Even if the energy inside me died down, I felt at home and much too eager to explore within the ancient walls. 

 

I sigh, sitting up in bed, and make my way towards the door. I had to see for myself what it was that kept my attention all these years. The cold stone under my bare feet give me goosebumps and chills as I pull on my cloak and tie it around my neck. I try to move quietly, but even then I knew if the man was awake he'd surely hear the faint slapping of my bare footsteps. I grab a lantern from the desk and walk down the long stone hall toward the grand staircase at the end. I stand here for a moment, studying the way the deep red carpet flows down the stairs in such an elegant manor. I slowly walk down the stairs, taking in every golden stitch in the carpet, and straight out toward the ballroom. There, I notice a giant and oddly beautiful painting of a family hanging over a large fireplace. Only three people stood in the portrait.

 

 A woman with light brown hair curled and pulled back, leaving her neck and chest exposed over the neckline of her deep red and silver ball gown. Next to her stood a man with long black hair and deep brown eyes wearing a warrior's uniform. He held the hand of the woman with his hand on her left shoulder and his other on the right shoulder of a young child. The child appeared frightened with slightly enlarged grey eyes and shaggy dark hair. His suit seemed forced and uncomfortable, but the metal pinned to his left breast pocket screamed his cooperation with it and the power behind it. The uniform of a warrior in training. Under the painting were the words, 'Noi bun venit Ordinul' or 'We Welcome the Order' engraved into a golden plaque. The mention of The Order made me do a double take to the metal on the boy's pocket. It had the dragon with the double cross on it, which matched the ring on the man's hand that rested on the woman's shoulder. They were a family under The Order of the Dragon. But how? This painting was old. Was it a painting of an ancestor or of a previous family? 

 

                "What a very curious girl you are, Princess." A faint voice whispers, echoing like a ghost through the halls. I shiver, ignoring it, and move toward a door across the room. Through the door was possibly the most remarkable library I had ever seen. Giant shelves covered in books cover every inch of the three walls. Yet another fireplace stood in the library with a small couch, a coffee table and two end tables six feet in front of it. I put the lantern down on the table and rush toward the closest shelf of books. I let my eyes scan the entire shelf when I notice one empty space. Books topple into it to cover the unused space. I take a deep breath and climb the shelf to find that even dust was pulled away from the empty space. It was the only book taken recently. The books on either side were that of darkness. Talking about the undead, Hell, resurrection and even war. I shift slightly to retrieve the book in my pocket when my balance falters causing me to slip. I can't help but scream as I try to grab onto the shelf itself but it won’t support me. I fall toward the hard stone floor fast, but never hit it when I'm suddenly cradled close to a warm being. I open my eyes and blink the tears away, heart pounding in my ears once more. It was my savior. He looks at me worriedly before shifting me in his arms to pick up the book I had unknowingly dropped in my fall and walk toward the couch. He lies me down and looks at me, examining my frame again. 

 

                "Are you alright? That was quite a scare you had there, miss." He asks kindly, kneeling next to me. I watch his eyes as they wonder over me. They seem worrisome and compassionate. Not watching me in that lustful glint I've come to hate. 

 

                "My name is Ilona and I'm fine, kind sir. I must apologize for my carelessness and thank you for everything you've done for me tonight. You've saved me twice now and I don't know how to repay you." I sigh, my embarrassment lighting up my pale cheeks, sitting up. He smiles politely and shifts confidently. A smile teases the corners of his lips even before he can lean into me and touch my cheek, tucking hair behind my ear. 

 

                "Would I be too bold to ask for an afternoon of your time, Princess?" He asks boldly, eyes brightening with a sense of hope. I smile, heart beating in my chest as images flash of the possibilities of the things I missed from all around the castle, and yet falls at the abrupt sound of my mother's disappointment. His eyes catch this and dim again. 

 

                "I'm afraid I can't. My mother would be angry with me. She's probably angry I left when I did. I'm sorry, sir." I answer regrettably, just above a whisper. I groan inwardly, trying to hide my sudden sorrow, when he smiles wider. 

 

                "Please, call me Vlad." He smirks, leaning up to kiss my forehead and hand me my book before standing. He walks toward his fireplace and leans against its frame. 

 

                "I've been wanting to explore this castle for years and now that I'm here, I'm terrified." I whisper childishly, clutching the book to my chest as if it were a security blanket. He turns to me, eyes wondering over me in pure concern. A look I hadn't seen without being tainted with pity and jealousy in a long time. He was the first person to actually care about me, and all I wanted to do was lie in his arms. 

 

                "Do I frighten you?" He utters, an apology deep in his eyes. I shake my head and stand, stepping toward him. 

 

                "No, it's not you. It's my mother and our superiors. I'm afraid the Order will damn me for stepping foot on this property." I explain. He flinches very faintly at the mention of my superiors. Was he scared of them too? 

 

                "They forbade me to come here from a young age, but it's just so beautiful." I add, turning to smile at the books. He chuckles under his breath, stepping up to my side and touching my arm. Even the faintest of touches threw my heart into a whirl. I calmly breathe and try to collect myself. 

 

                "If I may be so bold as to say I'd ask to stay another night if I didn't have the annual Transylvanian celebrations ball to prepare for." I finish, trying to avoid his eyes as my blood flushes my cheeks again. He chuckles and looks at me, stepping into my view. 

 

                "Princess," He starts sweetly, cupping my chin and gently urging me to look up at him. "I understand your predicament and I'd do anything to give you your dream. I'd let you stay as long as it took for you to see every crevice of this place." He smiles, waving toward the books behind him but I knew he meant the castle itself. I smile and nod slightly as he takes my hand. 

 

                "I'd give you a tour, but you need your rest." He commands with a gentle smile, leading me back to the room I had woken up in. I sigh and climb back into bed like a disappointed child told they couldn't stay up late to see Santa on Christmas morning. He smiles wider and tucks me in, sitting next to me. 

 

                "I do hope you have fun at the ball. You're the Princess of Transylvania after all. Don't let anything that happens ruin your experience." He whispers, like a lullaby to a scared child. I smile at the sweet gesture and nod promisingly, turning into the blanket. I listen to the door click shut before forcing myself to go to sleep. A hard thing to do just for nightmares of that dreaded lecture I was bound for when I return home. I'll leave the animal attack out of the conversation. 

 

 

 

 

---------------------------

 

                                Transylvania's Own: A Dance with the Devil in the Pale Moon Light

 

                "I'm sorry, mother." I repeat for the fifth time, rolling my eyes as the last bit of sincerity drains from my voice as she continues to yell about how rude it was of me to abandon our guest. He wasn't our guest, he was hers used to make money off of me and I won’t going to have it. I cross my arms over my chest and step toward the door, staring into her cold eyes. 

 

                "Mother, for the last time, I'm sorry I left so abruptly and rudely. Now please, let it go." I command, walking around her and out of the room. 

 

After waking up from a much needed nap in my own quarters, I thought that the animal attack or even seeing the inside of the castle was a dream, but the tenderly nearly completely healed section of my calf and my mother's anger proved otherwise. How am I healing so quickly? I walk down the corridor, slowing down and ignoring the questions bouncing around in my mind as deep voices seem to boom from my father's office. 

 

                "Father?" I call, knocking on the door frame before stepping inside. He turns away from his guest and smiles, opening his arms to me. 

 

                "Oh my lovely daughter, I do hope your mother didn't give you much of a fuss." He says sweetly, kissing my hair before stepping out of my view of his guest. 

 

"My dearest Ilona, this is Mr. Maxwell Carver from Paris. He's come to escort you to the ball tonight." My father announces, introducing me to yet another suitor. I step away, arms wrapped around myself. 

 

"Welcome to our kingdom Mr. Carver, but I'd much rather be escorted by a man I know." I correct my father, trying to be polite, curtsying before leaving the room. Flashes of Vlad flood my concentration as I walk down the stairs. I need air. I need him, but that was much too irrational. 

 

"Ilona." My father calls after me, leaning over the railing next to Mr. Carver to watch me. 

 

                "My apologies, father." I sigh sadly, curtsying again. "I'll think about it. I just need air." I add, grabbing my cloak and walking out. I tie my cloak around my neck and walk into town as usual. 

 

January 2, 1477

Dear heart, 

Though you don't pound anymore, I know your function is still familiar. I swear to you along with my mind that I'll find a reason for you to work again. A reason for you to function and make me just that much less of a monster. When? I don't know. But right now, I need to focus on one thing. 

Revenge.

~D

 

 

Another entry read from the diary, hoping the notes from another person's life would distract me from my own. They didn't. I find myself staining the pages with my tears before finally falling to my knees in front of a large tree. I tuck the book away again and lean back against the tree, breathing deeply to calm my nerves. 

 

                "Please tell me my eyes do deceive me, Princess. You are much too beautiful to be crying let alone here against a tree." A familiar voice murmurs, smoothly. The voice had a way of soothing my heart, bringing the ease I've been searching for through my memories of Vlad. I look up and pull off my hood to look at the man, watching him step proudly through the shadows next to me. It was him. I stand quickly, wrapping my arms around his neck impulsively. I close my eyes, body pressed against his chest in desperation and tears slowly dripping from my eyelashes, breathing in his Heavenly scent and presence. I pull away just as quickly, curtsying and bowing my head. 

 

                "My apologies, Vlad. I've become rather over whelmed and your presence offers great relief. I hope I haven’t offended you." I breathe, keeping my eyes down in apology. He steps up to me, lifting my chin to straighten my frame again. 

 

                "My dear, you could never offend me. I am honored to relieve that beautiful mind of yours." He reassures, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. He pulls me in close slowly, trying to keep it in a polite and honorable manner, and kisses my hair. 

 

                "May I ask why you're so upset, Ilona?" He asks, his voice adding a certain delight to my name. 

 

                "My father is setting me up with a man from Paris as my escort for tonight's ball. I don't want to spend the night with a stranger and I know in the pit of my stomach that if I do he'll make an unfair announcement about our engagement when I haven't accepted such an insult." I explain, hiding my face in his shoulder. I felt like a child, but I was just so tired of all the arranged escorts and engagements. 

 

                "An engagement is a blessing, my dear. Why is it so awful to you?" He presses, pulling away gently to look at me. 

 

                "Because I refuse to marry a man I do not know nor love. Marrying for money or personal advancement is wrong. I want to be happy with my King and give this kingdom a ruler it deserves. Is that wrong?" I admit, tilting my head slightly to study him. He smiles faintly, caressing my cheek. 

 

                "No, dear. It makes you even more beautiful and unique." He smiles wider, kissing my forehead. 

 

                "Long live the future Queen." He whispers into my hair. I smile and laugh under my breath, never wanting to leave his side. 

 

                "May I escort you to the ball tonight?" He asks, pulling away once more as one arm slips behind his back to bow and offers me his hand, a devilish grin playing across his lips. I take his hand and smile. 

 

                "I'd be honored." I answer confidently with a faint honored blush. He smiles and straightens again. 

 

                "Oh my dear, the honor is all mine, I assure you." He reassures sweetly, kissing my hand. 

 

                "Though I do need you to promise me something." He adds, just barely above a whisper as he steps closer, a mischievous gleam in his eye. I nod slightly, unable to find my voice in his oceanic eyes. 

 

                "If I escort you tonight, please promise me you'll never cry alone again. You're always welcome in my castle and a beautiful girl, especially a Princess of our beloved Transylvania, such as yourself shouldn't be alone." He proposes, his fingers twirling a single curl in my hair.

 

`               "Thank you Vlad. I owe you so much. I give you my word." I promise with a powerful nod. He smiles and chuckles with a sense of triumph before kissing my forehead and bowing to me again. 

 

                "Let's get you home before the Queen worries." He suggests, offering me his arm. He walks me back to the castle, talking to me about my stay in his own hauntingly beautiful castle. 

 

                "You love my home, don't you?" He asks with a smirk, brushing hair out of my face. I smile, blushing, and bow my head. 

 

                "You're eyes sparkle like the harvest moon at its mention, dear. May I ask why?" He says, his voice urging me to spill my secrets with a silky edge. Oh how I enjoyed it. 

 

                "I'm afraid your castle has been calling to me from a very young age. It's very beautiful and I wish I could've explored its grounds sooner, but alas as you know, I was forbidden from the premises." I explain, looking up at him as the sense of urgency overwhelms me. 

 

                "Oh Vlad, please. Please don't tell my parents. The Order will have my head." I beg him, tears flooding my eyes at the image. He shakes his head sternly, pain in his eyes at a forgotten memory as he wraps his arms around me. 

 

                "My dearest Ilona, I wouldn't dream of it." He says reassuringly, though his voice held a protective sense of authority as if with a hostile underlying meaning. I look at him and curtsy. He takes my hand, leading me toward the front door, and kisses it. 

 

                "I'll..." He starts to say softly, whispering over my skin as if his breath formed the words themselves and let them crawl up my arm until the front door opens to reveal my parents and Magdalene. 

 

                "Ilona!" My mother snap angrily until she sees Vlad. He straightens, clasping his hands behind his back with a pleasant smile. My mother smiles flirtatiously and curtsies as my father bows. Magdalene is the one that frightened me. Her eyes were wide as they flickered between us, watching us in utter fear and disgust. 

 

                "As I was saying, my dear. I'll see you tonight." He whispers in my ear, kissing my hair and bowing to my parents before leaving again. I walk inside, ignoring the wondering glances of my parents, and straight to my room. 

 

                "Miss Arcos?" Magdalene whispers in a huff, knocking on my chamber door before stepping inside. 

 

                "Yes Magdalene. Please, come in." I nod, sitting in my window seat. She quickly and nervously shuts my door and walks toward me. 

 

                "Ilona, dear, you must stay away from that man." She mutters, fear in her voice. I look out the window at his castle, wrapping my arms around my knees. 

 

                "Magdalene please. Vlad is the sweetest, most genuine person I've ever met." I reassure her, turning to look at her. Her eyes glass over as if she wanted to cry, but refuses. I sigh and take her hand. 

 

                "I promise I'll be careful, but please understand. I'm happier with him." I whisper, pleading her to understand my heart's desire for him. 

 

                "You can't. Oh dear Princess, don't you see? He's a monster." She rambles, pulling away. I stand silently, heart pounding. She bows her head, knowing her accusations upset me. 

 

                "I respect your opinion, Maggie, I always have but this man is strong all on his own. Not a monster. He saved me." I correct her, voice very low and harsh. She nods and pulls a picture out of a book covered in dust in the bookcase on the far wall. 

 

                "This is he, dear. I merely wish to warn you. He is a monster created from the blood of others. If you don't want to believe me, then at least be on guard around him. I beg of you." She pleads, her voice shaking before turning and walking out. I turn the piece of paper over in my hands and look at the picture. She was right. The man in the picture very closely matched the warrior knight in the painting in Vlad's castle. He wore the same medallion with the same haunting stare as the child but with a dark, powerful gleam. How was this possible? 

Author's Note

Please let me know what you think so far. Any comments, suggestions and creative criticism is welcome and appreciated. Please also understand that this story is a work in progress, but i do hope you enjoy it.