Ethan Lee was born beneath a blood-red moon, an inauspicious omen that echoed through the cold corridors of his father’s fortress. His homeland, the Kingdom of Varyn, was built on fear: its granite walls rose jagged and grim above a valley shrouded in mist, and its ruler, King Aldric, was a man known for unsparing cruelty. Aldric’s justice was swift, his punishments brutal — dissenters were dragged into the dungeons, not for trial, but for torture, and those who displeased him publicly were executed in the courtyards as a warning. In Varyn, loyalty was bought with blood, and only the ruthless survived.

From his earliest years, Ethan was molded in that ruthless tradition. His father spared no expense in his training: he was schooled in swordplay, strategy, and the merciless arts of intimidation. But Aldric also demanded absolute obedience — he humiliated Ethan before the court, forced him to watch as prisoners wept under the lash, and tested his resolve with whispered threats in the dead of night. Ethan scowled, bled, and stood his ground. Rather than break, he grew cold-hearted and defiant.

As he matured, Ethan became infamous—not just for his lineage, but for his fearless rebellion. He slipped from his gilded chambers into the shadowed under-city, mingled with smugglers, and fought in underground arenas. He delighted in breaking rules and hearts alike, wielding his arrogance like a blade. He resented his father’s reign but used his father’s power when it suited him. He knew the cruelty of Varyn intimately, and he both despised and embraced it.

In private, Ethan’s mind was a forge of ambition and bitterness. He understood the poison that ran through his kingdom: the way fear was currency, loyalty a fragile lie. Yet he also saw a different path — one where he might wield power without being shackled by his father’s merciless code. Still, despite his ambition, his greatest weapon remained his loneliness: no one in Varyn loved him, not truly, and for all his bravado he trusted no one but himself.

Now, as the shadows of the Citadel lengthen and a storm gathers on the horizon, Ethan Lee stands ready. He is the heir to a throne bathed in blood, but he himself is a burning star — dangerous, charismatic, and unbound. Whether he will shatter his father’s cruelty or become its fiercest champion is a secret he guards jealously, hidden behind a mask of arrogance and power.

The mist clung to the castle like it wanted to drag me down with it as I slipped through the side entrance, boots tapping softly against cold stone. Night had swallowed Varyn again, leaving only distant thunder rumbling over the mountains. The quiet should have been calming, but irritation still burned under my skin after a day of bowing courtiers and nobles too afraid to look me in the eye.

I pulled off my cloak, shaking out my hair as I walked down the lantern-lit corridor. The air bit at my skin—sharp, clean, familiar. Warmth has never belonged here, and neither, sometimes, have I.

I stopped beside a tall window overlooking the ravine. Fog twisted through the ruins below like restless ghosts. I rested my fingers against the chilled glass, breathing in the stillness. Heir to a merciless kingdom, yet even the castle seemed to question me, watching with the same suspicion it held for intruders.

A slow smirk curved my lips. Let it watch. Let them all watch. Tonight, I wasn’t playing the obedient son. Tonight, I would do exactly as I pleased.

"What the f*ck." I say in disdain as I look at the kingdom in the distance.