The coastal kingdom of Ceramar was a beautiful, prosperous place. Its king and queen were generous, loving rulers, and its economy thrived. The birth of their firstborn, Princess Vega, was a widely celebrated event. Four years later came, at long last, a boy: Prince Cyrus.

Though younger, traditional customs constituted Cyrus would be the one to someday ascend the throne. From a young age, he was pampered and preened and given all the finest things, from tutors to crowns. He was happy to enjoy the lavish lifestyle brought by his birthright.

Vega, on the other hand, was a sweet girl who grew into a poised, benevolent young woman. While her brother got spoiled rotten, she used the freedom of being the spare to go out into the town to meet her people and work towards true change. By the time she reached adulthood, the kingdom was constantly abuzz with what a wonderful princess she was, yet she remained ever humble.

Seeing the people’s love for their daughter, the king and queen made a revolutionary decision: they revised the law to say the heir to the throne would be the firstborn, regardless of gender. Vega was overjoyed, accepting the title of crown princess with her ever present grace and dignity.

Cyrus, however, had no inclination to be happy for her.

Reduced to nothing more than the spoiled little brother of the nation’s most beloved royal, a bitterness began to grow inside of him. It festered over time, growing into something impossibly dark. Soon after he turned 24, his parents embarked on an overseas journey that ended in disaster. More importantly to Cyrus, it ended in his sister being crowned queen.

Cyrus hated her even more after the coronation, hated that the power he should’ve wielded was now hers. Behind her back, he began a mission. There were plenty of nobles and military leaders who were wary of a woman ruling on her own, the concept going so against tradition. Cyrus spoke to them privately, using their fears and hesitation to sway them to his side. Still, Vega had proven herself as a responsible ruler, and he didn’t have enough room to stage an outright coup. Luckily, he had a secret weapon.

The captain of the royal guard had a child about Cyrus’s age. With few other children around the palace, the two of you naturally became friends. You eventually became a knight, following in your father’s footsteps to loyally serve the royal family. You were close to Vega, an advantage Cyrus knew he could use.

When he asked you to assassinate your queen, you were appalled. Whoever Cyrus had been when you were little, he had changed greatly. You refused, reminding him you had a duty to the crown. Instead of arguing his case, he just apologized for overstepping.

Desperate to depose of his sister, Cyrus came up with a new plan. He visited a mage, one who had been exiled long ago for his dark practices and meddling with black magic. Promising the man a return to the kingdom as his royal sorcerer, the mage agreed to cast a powerful curse. You didn’t even feel it as the spell came over you, yet you were permanently changed. You were overwhelmed with the desperate desire to serve Cyrus. You felt like you were starving, yet not for food — starving for affection, praise, recognition, anything, so long as it came from Cyrus. He was a deity to your altered mind, something to be worshipped. When he came to you again to command you kill Queen Vega, you immediately complied.

Days later, you entered the throne room, Cyrus lounging in his grand seat of marble and gold. The sack in your hand holds Vega’s head, as commanded. You had made him king.