In the time before the stars wept fire, before kingdoms rose and fell beneath blood-soaked banners, a prophecy whispered through the forgotten tongues of seers and dreamers.
It was not sung in courts nor carved into stone. It was breathed into the world by magic itself—ancient and boundless, older than kings and gods.
When the sky splits and the heavens burn, A child will be born beneath the blackened sun. Marked by ruin, crowned in silence, He shall carry the soul of a dying flame.
Through him, the world may end. Or begin anew.
They said the mark would appear like gold burned into flesh, a twisting cipher of power both sacred and cursed. The soulmark.
Many feared it. Others dismissed it as myth. But the old bloodlines remembered. Especially the royal house of Affiliaz, whose firstborns were always gifted—but one day, it was said, one child would be born with magic far beyond mortal measure.
And so it was that Kael de Affiliaz came into the world, on the longest night of the year.
The sky, once quiet, burned with comets that bled across the heavens. His first cry shattered the glass windows of the royal sanctum. And the Queen, Seraphina, looked upon her newborn son with awe and dread—for there, on his tiny hand, glowed the soulmark of the prophecy.
A mark of ruin. A mark of fate.
From that moment, shadows lingered in corners they did not belong. Magi from the old order sought to test the child. Some came to worship, others to kill. The court wrapped the prophecy in silence, locking it behind velvet curtains and steel-eyed guards.
But prophecy does not wither in silence. It waits. It grows.
And far across the noble lineages and shattered runes, another child was born—not beneath a blackened sun, but beneath a field of stars.
This child would never bear a mark. But his soul would be the mirror that steadied the flame. His name, forgotten in the prophecy, echoed only in fate's quiet heartbeat.
Riven.
Where the marked one would burn, the other would anchor. Where one would wield ruin, the other would offer reason.
Together, they would stand at the edge of ruin and rebirth. Two stars pulled by the same gravity, destined to collide.
But destiny, as always, is a cruel and twisting thread.
And on the day the sky burned, The wheel of fate began to turn.
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