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

It was raining over the central plains of Sidralis, and a particularly dark patch of cloud hung over Rosweiss City.

The rain had inundated the capital overnight, swelling the River Rose and trickling down the cobblestone streets. It was unseasonably early for the rainy season, so rather than the stifling humidity a Spring downpour ordinarily brought, it was the last of Winter's bitter fog and biting chill instead.

This—thankfully—scattered the main protests, leaving only the most diehard supporters to chant and shout, though in these miserable conditions, it seemed like they had far less fire in their bellies.

"Here, I hope milk and sugar is fine."

Lynn emerged from the coffee shop, careful of the water dripping from the awning overhead. She passed the warm cup to Sergeant Vivi Himes, who stood with a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck.

the line I (had to) cross.