When Vessel - the enigmatic frontman of the band Sleep Token - suffers a brutal onstage injury during the final leg of an American tour, he crosses paths with Kennedy, a tough-as-nails night shift trauma nurse. As she cares for his shattered body, they discover in each other a mirror to their own unseen wounds. Bound by pain, music, and resilience, the two form an unexpected bond - one that defies fame, fear, and the world's shallow gaze - fighting side by side to heal, to dream, and to be truly seen. ⚠️Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction created for entertainment purposes only. While inspired by the public personae known as "Vessel", "II", "III", and "IV" from the band Sleep Token, the characters portrayed in this story are entirely fictional. To respect the privacy of the real individuals behind their monikers, different names have been used in this narrative. Any resemblance to real events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

At twenty-two, King Baldwin IV rules a kingdom already half-consumed by war, by treachery, and by the leprosy hollowing him from within. Yet before the storm of his final years, there was the fire of youth. The first half of this book traces those memories: the separation of his parents, the moment his illness was uncovered, the death of his father, his rise to kingship under regency, and his earliest exposure to blood, war, and tragedy. These were the trials that shaped a boy into a king, and lit the blaze that would carry him through Montgisard and beyond. The second half resumes in early 1183. As Saladin rises with unmatched force and unity, and Jerusalem's allies falter in their promises, Baldwin must confront the truth: the kingdom he bled to defend will not outlive him. He fights not to preserve an empire, but to secure the last breath of a fragile peace, and to leave behind a Jerusalem worthy of memory, not myth. What follows is a storm. The fall of the Holy City. The slaughter of knights sworn to silence. The failure of every crusade that sought to reclaim what was lost. But beneath the ruin, something endures. The walls of Jerusalem remember him. Though freedom from conquest remains a fragile dream, the city breathes with a quiet freedom Baldwin could only imagine: the right to love without chains, to worship without fear, to live each day unafraid. His legacy lives on, not in crowns or relics, but in the lives built upon the ashes he left behind. And somewhere in that city, something ancient stirs again.