A legend told that far, far away, on the edge of the magical realms, there was a city, a great black city built on a mountain famous for its curse.
Only the black mages and all those who were deeply linked to the darkness were allowed to enter this place of the night, feared by all. It was there, far from the light, that a young boy named Miron was imprisoned. He lived within the walls of a huge building, among other children, under the domination of a banished black mage, who tried to subdue him because of his rebellious and untamable nature. Miron did not know how to break free from this terrible prison. But opportunity knocked in the year he turned thirteen when he discovered a power his dark tormentors wished he had never known.

The Prince Of Mages

Vradiome, paralyzed by fear and disgust, did not know what to do, how to get out of this danger, this other kind of darkness in which so many others before him had already sunk irreparably. He was only a child, a child without any magic or physical strength. He was lost. 


So when this young woman who owed him nothing and who had already been forced to walk this road of evil so sordid and repulsive, he found her in spite of all the defilement her body and heart had suffered, like light. 


She had long Venetian hair strewn with tiny glittering stones, and her slender body was draped in a long, veiled gown and cinched at the waist by a huge belt that emphasized the suppleness and slenderness of her waist. 


She was breathtakingly beautiful and her spring green eyes were still able to glow with concern and tenderness. 


How could it be otherwise. He loved her as far, as deep as he was by nature capable of doing. 


Torture