The sky bled violet as the three moons rose over Velmora.
Prince Kael Draeven stood on the balcony of the Celestial Spire, the highest tower in the kingdom. Below, the city shimmered with lanternlight and laughter. The Festival of Stars had begun but Kael could not join the joy.
He stared at the darkening sky, his fingers tightening on the cold railing.
Somewhere out there, the Black Star the one he was born under moved into alignment. His chest burned beneath his robes, as if the runes carved into his skin were waking.
Behind him, the heavy doors creaked.
"Kael," came his mother's voice Queen Serenya, robed in silver and sadness. "The Seers are uneasy. The starpath is shifting."
He turned. "They think I'll bring ruin."
"They fear your power," she said gently. "Not your heart."
But Kael knew better. Since childhood, the servants avoided him. His shadow moved too strangely. His touch burned certain scrolls. The stars had whispered to him voices only he could hear.
He wasn't just a prince.
He was a curse in a crown.
---
That night, during the royal feast, it happened.
The music faltered. A wind swept through the hall, extinguishing every flame.
From the darkness, a woman stepped forward veiled in smoke and violet eyes.
> "I claim what is mine," she said.
Queen Serenya rose, furious. "This is sacred ground"
But the sorceress lifted one pale hand.
And black flame roared from her palm, striking Kael in the chest.
He screamed.
The runes ignited ancient, forbidden glyphs twisting across his skin.
Thorns burst from the floor beneath him, wrapping around his arms, his legs, his neck. The crowd screamed. Guards rushed forward and were turned to ash.
His mother wept, trying to reach him.
But the sorceress only smiled.
> "Your throne dies tonight, Cursed Prince. Sleep beneath the stars you were born to defy."
With a flick of her wrist, she vanished and so did Kael.
Gone from the palace.
Gone from the world he knew.
Only the curse remained.