CORVUS

PROLOGUE

The stars were dying.

One by one, they vanished from the sky of Thrion, extinguished like candles snuffed out by an unseen hand. Every disappearance left behind a wound in the heavens, a hollow darkness where ancient light had once lived. The night seemed to unravel itself with every passing moment, as though the universe had finally begun to forget its own existence.

Queen Ravicca stood alone upon the highest balcony of the Celestial Citadel and watched it happen.

The cold wind pulled at the silver threads woven through her dark robes, but she barely felt it. Her eyes remained fixed on the heavens above.

She had spent her entire life beneath those stars.

She knew them the way a mother knew her children.

Each constellation carried a name older than kingdoms. Each cluster of light possessed a song that could only be heard by those born with royal blood. Since childhood, she had traced their patterns across the sky and memorized every shift in their movements. They had guided sailors across crystal oceans, illuminated floating cities drifting among the clouds, and watched over Thrion since the first age of creation.

Now they were disappearing.

For a brief moment, Ravicca felt something she had not allowed herself to feel in years. Fear.

The balcony beneath her feet trembled as another explosion echoed across the valley. Golden towers that had stood for centuries collapsed into rivers of fire. Great winged beasts circled through smoke-choked skies. Magic flashed across the horizon in violent bursts of silver and crimson.

The war had reached the heart of the realm, and they were losing.

The Queen turned away from the destruction and entered the chamber behind her. From there, three people stood waiting.

The High Seer.

The Keeper of the Gates.

And the last Dragon Warden.

“The barrier is failing,” the Keeper said.

For thousands of years, the Great Barrier had protected Thrion from the chaos beyond existence. It separated their realm from the endless void between worlds. It was the reason civilizations had flourished. The reason children could sleep peacefully at night.

The Queen closed her eyes. “How long?”

“Hours.” And that answer struck her harder than any blade.

The High Seer stepped forward with silver light drifted around her wrists. “The Castaway King has shattered the Seventh Seal.”

“Zhyan. What does he want from us? Our world is soon to be destroyed by the hands of whom had protected it once.”

“He’s mad, Your Highness. He’s become darker.”

Zhyan is a castaway king who had once possessed more power than any mortal should.

“He should never have escaped,” the Dragon Warden whispered.

“He hasn’t escaped yet,” said the Queen. The old woman met her gaze.

“No.” Then her voice broke, “But he will."

The Queen already knew what came next. The High Seer approached the cradle standing beside the window.

Four infants slept inside, unaware of the destruction happening outside. The future of an entire realm. The Seer touched the smallest hand then a faint mark shimmered across the child’s wrist.

A star.

Then another mark appeared.

A storm.

A crescent moon.

A crown in silver.

The ancient signs of the four heirs. The four children spoken of in prophecies older than kingdoms, and the ones destined either to save Thrion…

Or destroy it.

“The enemy is searching for them,” the Seer said quietly.

The Queen looked at the children, and one of them yawned while another kicked a blanket aside. For a moment, they looked painfully ordinary.

The Dragon Warden swallowed. “There must be another way.”

“There isn’t.” The words came from the Keeper.

“The portal is ready.”

The Queen’s chest tightened, for beyond the palace walls, another explosion shook the city. The glass started to shatter, somewhere in the distance, people screamed.

Their time had run out.

The High Seer lifted the first child into her arms. The baby immediately grabbed a strand of her silver hair which made the old woman laugh softly with tears threatening to fall in her eyes.

“They must forget everything.”