BrettMichaelOrr

“You can bring back everyone you’ve lost. It will only cost your sanity.”

The king is dead, murdered by an interloper from the future—a manic copy of his own son, hellbent on forcibly reversing a disastrous timeline. The true Damian Roswald—a hedonistic crown prince bereft of magical talent—finds his comfortable life upended by his father’s murder and assassins from his own future.

“There are none left who can judge us, so we must be our own executioner. That is the cursed fate of those few named Damian Roswald.” 

With politicians plotting his demise, his royal cousins scheming for the empty throne, and warring churches tearing the grieving city apart, Damian must accept the tragedy of his countless futures—or else, find himself doomed to repeat them. But can a mere mortal decide their own fate in a world governed by almighty angels? 

“Find me, Damian Roswald. And I’ll tell you why the stars fell.”

For three centuries, even the wisest men have accepted that the night sky was once populated by ‘stars’—until a terrible calamity plunged mankind into a Dark Age. From the darkness, the Roswalds rose to power, but few know that the first crown was forged with the blood of a slaughtered god…

Damian must endure countless tragedies and the consequences of his own future actions to reach the peace he desires—but could the true threat be hiding not in his future, but in his own distant past?

**Join our Discord and never miss a chapter!! https://discord.gg/M5cTyzW44Q**

A Thread of Broken Fate

A grandfather clock chimed in the manor's lobby.

The beast padded down the familiar hallways of its territory, its muzzle twitching at the new scents that invaded its domain. It snarled at the detestable heat radiating from a nearby fireplace, and hurried on, plunging back into cooler shadows.

The hound's claws clacked against the wooden floor with every step, the timber creaking occasionally at the unexpected weight. Humans walked past, garbed in black, carrying out some or other important errand at this late hour. The hound cared not; the affairs of humans were simultaneously beneath its consideration, and beyond its comprehension.

The humans gave the creature a wide berth when they saw those yellow eyes coming down the hallway.

The beast chuckled to itself—the noise beyond anything the heavens or earth could produce.

It took pleasure in the humans' fear.

midnight of a hound’s creed.