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

Lynn slammed into the ground with enough force to crack her ribs.

The tendrils of shadow whipping around the corridor had painted the ceiling and walls black. A scorching blast seared past her cheek, singing her flesh—and violating a sacred tenet of her Flame Blessing in the process.

What the Ash is going on?!

Lynn struggled onto all-fours and wretched, spilling hot bile and blood between her hands. The act of breathing was agonizing, nearly blacking her out from pain alone. She had barely weathered two or three attacks from this newcomer, this other Damian Roswald—and she'd been handily defeated.

"I'm bored, bored bored boredboredboredbored."

Damian approached, his boots squelching through pools of blood.

one life into insanity.