Prologue

16 1 4
                                    

In the heart of Nyxara, a kingdom where the night ruled eternally and the stars whispered ancient secrets, a silent dread began to fester. The skies, once a vast ocean of darkness adorned with shimmering constellations, now held the weight of a forgotten prophecy, a threat to the realm's existence.

For centuries, the endless night had been the lifeblood of Nyxara. Its islands, floating between dreams and reality, thrived under the embrace of the moon's light, untouched by the corruption of day. But that balance was fragile, and the realm's rulers had long feared the whispers that spoke of eternal daylight — a curse that could unravel everything.

In a forgotten temple, carved into the cliffs of Frostspire, a figure stood before an ancient stone, tracing the symbols of the prophecy that only a few dared to speak of. It foretold the coming of two beings, bound by fate and power, destined to either preserve the night or let the daylight consume Nyxara.

The stars flickered dimly, as if mourning for what was to come. Somewhere far from the palace, a girl whose hair shimmered with starlight stirred in her sleep, unaware that her destiny was woven into the fabric of that prophecy. And across the kingdom, a cursed prince, burdened by the weight of his lineage, dreamed of the same darkness — and the light that threatened to tear his world apart.

The dawn, long banished from Nyxara, was coming. And with it, the unraveling of all that they knew.

Starlit Shadows Where stories live. Discover now