Soul-Mess

In the heart of Nirevalis Elyndra- where moonlight weaved through crystallized towers, casters gathered to feel the mourning of their royals, and the air thrummed with ancient spells— a prince is dying. Not in battle. Not from sickness. Not from curse. But by fate. Renzo Nire Seratheon, beloved Prince of the sealed kingdom, bearer of the powerful four elements, lay on the ceremonial altar of Silverstone, his pulse flickering like a candle before the wind. Magic twisted in the air, the cry of all the casters would be heard everywhere. As the runes glowed faintly beneath his skin as the kingdom's seers whispered in a fearful and trembling tongue. The unveiled prophecy chose him. The dying prince. "A soul untethered shall cross the veil," the high Seer had warned. "Bound to another not by blood, nor by duty...but by a heart that should not be for them." The Royals try to stop the Seer. They pull him away. But the prince, even in his last breath, all of what the High Seer said got stock with him-—and he believed that there was still a chance of rewriting his fate. So, when the candle's light got blown by the wind and the runes stopped glowing, that's when the prince's soul slipped away through the abyss. It had slipped by time and magic like thread through a needle. Far away in the kingdom of Myrethorne Veloria, a boy named Lucien Sylen Arcanis blinked awake inside an unfamiliar yet familiar place. He didn't remember the moonlight. He didn't remember the cry. He didn't remember the crown. All he knew was this: his magic didn't work like anyone else's. But there's always missing. And there he made a big mistake, linking his soul to the crown prince by a mess-spell. Bound by mistake, bound by fate.