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

Lynn had barely taken a step into the hallway beyond before a Deep-spear hurtled past her from a partly-open door.

Titus roared and barreled ahead, a wave of Flame sweeping ahead of him. Apostles recoiled, slipping back into open doorways, melting into darkness and shadow.

With precise commands, the SWD officers snapped into offensive positions. A row of militarized officers dropped to one knee and raised their Flame-born rifles to their eyes. Bursts of Flame cracked through the air like thunderbolts, leaving behind the pungent scent of ozone.

Apostles dropped at the end of the hallway, blood spraying onto the glass windows.

"GET THOSE DOORS OPEN!" Titus roared, now securing the middle of the hallway.

bloodeathellose.