In the dim, shadowed corners of his throne room, King Sola paced restlessly, his face twisted with frustration and desperation.
Flickering torchlight cast ominous shapes across the walls, amplifying the tense silence. The ancient curse that bound him was a mark he could not escape, and each day it grew clearer that the key to breaking it lay in Overa—a place long thought to be little more than myth. Now, that illusion was unraveling before him.
The King's Wizard, draped in black, watched his king’s agitation in silence. He knew what haunted the king’s mind—freedom from the curse lay closer than ever, but at a cost that was yet uncertain.
King Sola’s voice broke the silence. “We have no choice,” he muttered darkly. “If an infant girl—this Tiya—can truly undo my curse, then she must be brought here, no matter the cost.”
The Wizard regarded him carefully. “And… what of your elder son, my king?”