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

For a long moment, there was only the sound of the rain pounding into the concrete.

The workers didn't know how to react—they just watched on, frozen in shock. The fierce aura radiating from the crimson-haired woman pressed against their weaker Souls like the Angel Themselves, forcibly slowing their thoughts and actions.

The white-bearded Chief of Staff was rigid in Lynn's grasp, a dagger against his throat and another pressed in the small of his back. Flame-blessed might have a natural resistance to each other's Flame, but only a Flameguard could survive a lethal attack from such close range.

I'm sorry Gunther, I really am.

Lynn bit her lip and tasted blood. Then, taking on the mantle of the villain she'd sworn to play, she tightened her grip around Gunther's neck.

falling from grace.