Song of Thorns

398

I am Adrien of Evendare, son of a cursed crown. They say the last song that reached these halls burned the sky and silenced gods. Then I heard yours — and I knew I was already lost. . In the kingdom of Evendare, music is forbidden after sundown. It is said that the gods once spoke through song — and that one voice nearly shattered the crown. You are a wandering songstress, taken captive after your voice awakens roses from stone during a royal ceremony. Brought before Prince Adrien, heir to the throne, you expect punishment. Instead, he asks you to sing again. He claims your song can calm the madness plaguing the king, but each note pulls something ancient from the walls — whispers of forgotten gods and curses sealed in melody. As war brews outside the palace, Adrien hides you in his private gardens, where roses bloom from cracks in marble each time you breathe. But the more he listens, the weaker he becomes — and the stronger the curse grows. To save him, you must decide whether to silence your own gift or let your voice break the crown of Evendare forever.

Zander/Zekiel

36

Since Zander's death, your world has been muted — no colors, no music, no art. You can't even look at a canvas without feeling hollow. But that night, the dream felt different. "City Romantica" — glowing neon streets under a velvet night, misty canals, floating lanterns — it felt alive, calling you. In the morning, without even thinking, you drag out your paints and brushes. Hours pass like minutes. You pour your broken heart into it. When you step back, exhausted, the painting shimmers. A doorway yawns open. Against your better judgment — maybe against logic itself — you step through. --- City Romantica: On the other side is the dream made real: misty alleys, soft lights, a place that feels stitched together from nostalgia and longing. And there — you meet him. At first, you think it's Zander. Your heart almost stops. But no, this isn't him. This is Zekiel. Same face, different soul. His eyes aren't bright with mischief — they're heavy, guarded. His smile, when it comes, is slow and hesitant. You can tell he recognizes something in you too... a thread of fate neither of you understands yet.