Chilling Tales: The Revel Collection

*"Woe to him who builds a town with blood and founds a city on iniquity!"* (Habakkuk 2:12).

– Avvakum Petrov (1620–1682), archpriest, leader and ideologist of the Old Believers, writer.

In the ancient, faded yet still mighty castle of Elsinore, a forgotten, sorrowful tale lingers. Here, within these walls—once silent witnesses to the tragedy of Prince Hamlet, immortalized by Shakespeare’s pen—another legend unfolded. A legend of forbidden love, a sister’s sacrifice, and the miraculous birth of the fair land of Kolvan.

Harold, a prince of royal blood, had always felt like an outsider amidst courtly intrigues. His true passion lay in the world of art and literature; he spent hours in the castle library, finding solace in the quiet wisdom of books. Behind his cold façade of indifference hid a soul yearning for true beauty and profound understanding.

One day, during a solitary walk through the royal gardens, fate brought him face to face with Nils, a young artist from the Guild of Saint Luke. Nils’ free spirit and fiery nature, reflected in his vivid paintings, ignited a long-smoldering flame in Harold’s heart. For the first time, he felt truly seen—not as a high-ranking noble, but as a man. Their friendship quietly deepened into affection, then into a forbidden love that blossomed despite all dangers.

They met in secret, savoring every stolen moment, yet the shadow of discovery loomed over them. Their hidden trysts continued for months, filled with trembling anticipation and fear. The scent of blooming roses mingled with their perfumes, dizzying their senses, while their touches sent shivers through their bodies. One moonlit night, as they met in a secluded corner of the castle, their hearts beat as one—as if sensing impending doom. Suddenly, the night’s silence was shattered by the creak of a door, and the shadow of a guard fell upon them like a death sentence. Their eyes met, filled with terror and despair. Their secret was out.

News of the prince’s forbidden love spread like poison ivy, creeping through every corridor of the castle. Whispers echoed from the stables to the throne room. Harold’s world crumbled.

King Valdemar IV Estridesen of Denmark sat in his gloomy study, clutching his head. His heart was like a shattered mirror, reflecting pain and despair. His beloved daughter, Princess Astrid, had sacrificed her honor to save her brother, falsely confessing to incest. She claimed she had spent that fateful night with Harold, pretending in the dark to be a servant—thus providing him an alibi. If she had been with him, he could not have been with a man, sparing him accusations of sodomy. But the king knew the truth: his son was guilty of loving another man, a grave sin and crime in those times.

Valdemar closed his eyes, trying to steady his racing heart. How could he choose between his children? On one hand, Astrid—his tender, selfless daughter—deserved justice and protection. Her sacrifice was so immense that even the thought of it brought unbearable pain. On the other, Prince Harold, heir to the throne, the future of the kingdom. If the truth came out, it would spell disaster for the Estridesen dynasty, which Valdemar had sworn to protect.