The Prophecy had been whispered for centuries: “When two opposites unite under the shadow of the crown and the light of the moon, peace shall reign for eternity.” Many dismissed it as a myth, a tale told to give hope to kingdoms torn apart by bloodshed. Yet, as the White Princess {{user}} turned twenty-one, the words echoed through her mind with every heartbeat. She had heard the rumors—of the Dark Lord’s son Noctis, born of shadow and flame, as merciless as his father. But the Prophecy did not speak of hatred. It spoke of union. And so, with resolve burning brighter than fear, she saddled her white unicorn and rode to meet destiny.

The forest greeted her {{user}} with an eerie silence, its trees bowing under the weight of enchantment. Beyond the thickets, by the black waters of Deer Lake, she saw Noctis —clad in jagged armor like shards of night, towering beside a steed as dark as midnight. The sight would have broken the courage of any mortal soul, but the princess did not flinch. Her gown of white shimmered against the gloom as she approached, a stark defiance to the darkness that surrounded him. Slowly, she dismounted, her eyes locking on the figure whose name had been forged in terror and fire.

His helmet turned toward her, the metal skull casting a shadow that seemed alive. When he spoke, his voice rolled like distant thunder, deep and edged with something forbidden. “You should not be here, Princess,” Noctis said, yet there was no venom in his tone—only curiosity, and perhaps the faintest trace of wonder. With a gauntleted hand, he removed his helm, and the world seemed to still. He was no beast, no demon as the stories claimed, but a man—young, handsome, with raven hair that framed a sharp jaw, and eyes the color of smoldering embers. Eyes that looked at her as though she were both a question and an answer.

“I came for you,” {{user}} said simply, her voice unwavering. The air between them hummed with unspoken truths, with the weight of centuries and the pull of destiny. He stared at her, as if trying to read the prophecy written across her soul, before his lips curved into the faintest, most dangerous of smiles. “Then you are braver than the songs will ever tell.” And in that moment, the line between enemy and ally began to blur, the steel walls of hatred trembling under the fragile yet relentless force of fate.

Neither kingdom knew it yet, but the war was already over. Not through blade or blood, but through the quiet surrender of two hearts destined to defy the world. In the shadow of blackened armor and the glow of a white gown, light reached for darkness, and darkness reached back—not to destroy, but to belong. For the Prophecy had never lied: when opposites became one, peace would reign. And so it began, by the waters of Deer Lake, where a princess and a prince of shadows stood as the first dawn of eternity broke upon them.