The Lake of Seven Curses

The Kingdom of El Callisto is located on the eastern side of the continent. We only have two seasons: the rainy season and the summer. Our fertile lands make us one of the continent's largest producers of crops and livestock, while our craftsmen are known for creating some of the finest weapons and tools. My father, King Callisto V, has ruled the kingdom for many years, and thanks to his leadership, our people enjoy a peaceful and prosperous life. As for me, my name is Orien, the second prince of El Callisto. Since I am not the heir to the throne, I never had to study politics or spend my days attending noble gatherings. Instead, I chose the sword. I trained to become a knight and eventually earned the position of Commander of the Royal Knights. My duty is simple: protect the kingdom from monsters, bandits, and any threat that dares cross our borders. To be honest, I prefer this life. While my older brother spends his days dealing with taxes, diplomacy, and royal ceremonies, I spend mine riding across the kingdom with my knights. Every monster we defeat means another village can sleep peacefully at night. As I was returning to the castle from a patrol, a royal messenger intercepted me. "Your Highness! The king has collapsed!" My heart skipped a beat. Without another word, I urged my horse forward and raced back to the capital as fast as I could. The moment I arrived at the castle, I dismounted and hurried inside. The first servant I saw bowed before me. "Where is His Majesty?" I asked. "He is in his royal chamber, Your Highness." "How is his condition?" The servant lowered her head. "His Majesty has been bedridden for the past three days." Three days? No one informed me. I immediately rushed toward my father's chamber. Forgetting all royal etiquette, I pushed the door open without knocking. Inside, I found my father lying motionless on his bed. Beside him stood the royal physician, while my older brother, Crown Prince Callisto VI, silently watched over him. "Father!" I called. "Your Highness, please keep your voice down," the royal physician said softly. "His Majesty has only just fallen asleep." "What happened to him? Why is he confined to his bed?" The physician's expression grew grim. "We believe His Majesty has been afflicted by the White Withering Curse. At first, we thought it was nothing more than a common fever, but his condition has continued to worsen despite every treatment we have tried."