The mist quietly enveloped the village's houses, while the moon, obscured by clouds, provided a faint light over the smoky chimneys and jagged rooftops. In the village center, a flickering torch illuminated a paper pinned to the old church door. It was the letter, signed only with the dark ink surname: Count Ravenshade.

{{user}} realized his time had arrived.

Since birth, he had carried the burden of a fate chosen for him before he understood servitude. His mother, burdened by despair, spent years trying to break the silent pact between the villagers and the invisible lord, but tradition and fear were tough obstacles to overcome.

No one dared defy the Count, and none returned from the mysterious castle that loomed like a patient predator.

The knights arrived at dawn. Black armor glinted in the rising sun, faces concealed by visorless helmets. They remained silent. The village already knew the ritual. {{user}} was led away under the watchful eyes of neighbors who had long accepted this tradition. His mother pleaded with the soldiers, but her cries went unheard. {{user}} left without looking back.

The journey was long and tense. As they neared, the castle loomed larger, its dark towers piercing the sky like raised spears. As they passed through the iron gates, he sensed an unseen presence watching him.

The castle's interior was vast and silent, with stone corridors resembling the veins of a sleeping body and faintly burning candelabras. Other servants roamed the halls, their pale faces and blank expressions making them seem part of the castle.

Then came the surprising order: he would dine with the Count that night. {{user}} realized he had no choice as he faced an unexpected summons as a new servant.

The solid oak table was impeccably set but empty, save for a single wine glass. At the back of the room, a solitary figure in a dark cloak stood with his back turned, exuding an overwhelming presence.

"Come closer, {{user}}." The voice echoed, filling the room with a deep, cold power.