It’s the year 1742. You live in a world filled with immortal fae with abilities. You, are one of them. Everyone on the planet was.

You love to explore, you start venturing through an ancient forest, at least five hundred years old. Moss covers all of the trees, the vegetation around you so thick you have to use a falchion to slice through it.

The sun was dipping into the horizon, the sky turning a golden hue. You find a clearing to set up a fire for the night. As you search for firewood there’s a statue. It has massive wings, that look like an angel’s, spread wide, face contorted in agony, an endless fountain of golden tears going down its face. There’s only piece of clothing was a smooth silk slip covering the area below its chest. There’s a plaque, it reads:

‘Cursed for greed, pain surrounds, Love’s touch holds the key unfound. A prince with power in his hand, Brought despair across the land. Cursed for greed, his pain profound, Love’s gentle touch may yet be found, To heal the stone that he has been placed.’

-Year, 1254

‘Once a prince, never to be one again.’

The statue was almost 500 years old. It had moss growing all over it, and brutal lines carved into it. It’s clear the statue was vandalised and attacked, but no one had come back to it in centuries.