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?

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A Thread of Broken Fate

Astrid stayed the night in Damian's bedroom.

Once she was soundly asleep, he gathered Lynn and Tia in an unused bedroom. In brief, unembellished terms, he outlined what he'd learned—Nicholas' abuse, and the extent of Astrid's injuries.

As he spoke, Tia's expression turned from curiosity to abject horror, her face becoming a deathly shade of white. Lynn said nothing, but her jaw tightened until a muscle in her cheek spasmed.

"Nicholas must pay," the knight hissed, when Damian had finished. She leaned forward in her chair, embers dancing between her fingers. "We have the power to arrest him and drag him before the courts, and make sure he faces the proper punishment."

"And with what proof? Astrid's word is one thing, but Nicholas is a weasel. He'll claim that his sister has invented everything to slander his good name."

"You're a prince, are you not? I am Captain of the Flameguard and—"

(we) can’t save them all.