In the Year 300 of the Kingdom of Vasterion, a young handsome lad with eyes of the warmest, touch of the gentlest, face of the fairest, voice of the tenderest, and heart of the purest was revered, loved, and cherished by the people.
This young, handsome youth was named by them "Solvantar's Favorite Creation". Upon his birth, the sky rained with stars, the animals sang melodies, and the heavens poured blessings on the land.
Unlike other infants who cry, he laughed as his welcome greeting to the world. When he opened his eyes, everyone was blinded by how bright his eyes were. As he reached out his small hands, a surge of golden rays, warm and mesmerizing, flowed out of them.
"Heavens!" The cry of the most venerable priest echoed through the entire hall. His knees fell to the floor with a thud, his hands clasped together in front, and his head tilted upwards to the sky. "This birth will be the salvation of this world!"
His words rang to every nook and corner. Farmers stopped planting crops in the fields, shepherds paused on their way, and travelers sang worship songs as they continued on their journey, praising Solvantar for his mercy in delivering a holy child to their kingdom.
At that moment, the fate of the innocent, unaware child was written by the adults surrounding him. On his seventh birthday, he was sent to the temple to live within its premises from then on. At eleven, he served Solvantar as the youngest priest; at seventeen, he was the strongest, wielding the purest form of spiritual energy, possessing the highest divinity.
He battled everything evil, from injustices to malignant beings and diseases. He blessed the people with his power, without asking anything in return. His name was sung with reverence and admiration on the streets; his birth was recorded in history; and his face was plastered and worshiped in every house.
This young, handsome lad was indeed the salvation of the world, for he was the only one capable enough to fight the evil that lurked upon the Vasterion's throne. A seat that no one wants to claim despite its highest position.
Many years before this birth, a greedy man once said: If the royal family does not wish to claim the throne, then I will! I will rule this land with power and wisdom; no one will dare to question my legitimacy! I will rewrite the history of this kingdom!
This greedy man did not believe in the evil that looms over the throne; therefore, with a brave, malicious heart, he took the throne upon himself and cast aside the young and weak imperial heir.
After he became king, he gathered all the beautiful women in his court; he filled his fingers with rings adorned with the most expensive stones and jewels; he fed himself every day with a lavish feast; and slept peacefully on the blood, sweat, and tears of his people.
However, his reign only lasted for three months. Not because of a rebellion or a civil war, nor the interference of the Solvantar's temple, but because of his ignorance. On his first day as a king, he felt immensely powerful as though he could order the storm to stop or the mountain to move. He reveled in the feeling, blinded by the truth that followed him around. He felt his greed multiply; his lustful urges escalated; his hunger intensified; and then, even at the single sound of a branch breaking, his head exploded in anger.
The people lived in fear of their lives until the greedy, mad king was no more. He was turned into nothing but bones covered in wrinkled skin, his eyes sunken deep into his skull, his hair falling on his shoulders, his teeth and everything that makes him look human were gone.
He became one of the countless kings turned into a living skeleton, seated upon the Vasterion's throne. Like the previous kings, he did not believe that the throne was evil, giving you everything you desire, yet eating away at your soul.
After three months of his reign, he was no more than a pile of bones leaning on the throne, a crooked crown resting on his skull, and a white ermine cape draped behind. He was reduced to nothing but remains swept away with a broom into a sack, and then thrown into the fire.
Once again, the kingdom lost a king.
Another brave man stepped forward to lead the astray kingdom. The people's diminished hope for a brighter future was lit, as this brave man was known as good and benevolent. He sat upon the throne with renewed hope for the land, and thus, the land prospered once more, so the people were overjoyed.
However, the jubilation of the kingdom was not long-lived. The good king fell into the hands of the evil that dwells inside the throne. Six months in his reign, he left in a similar state just as like as the greedy king before him. The only difference was, the good king's remains were kept and buried properly.
Since then, the throne was abandoned, situated alone at the top of a platform by the end of the largest hall in Vasterion's Castle. It was proven that evil truly owned that throne. Anyone who claimed himself as king of that kingdom ended up with the same fate as the two kings.
No matter your intentions, good or bad, pure or impure, once you lead this kingdom, you will fall prey to the evil of its throne.
But a kingdom needs a king! For whom will the people follow if there is no leader? Chaos will ensue!
The people cried to Solvantar's temple, and alas! The temple had heard the people's plea. They gave their word that in every king who would bravely step forward to take the throne, Solvantar would send him a savior.
This proclamation sowed hope to the people, but the kings that followed, accompanied by priests from Solvantar's temple, met the same fate as the previous kings. The only difference this time was the length of their rule.
One king, accompanied by a priest, lasted a year. Another king with a stronger priest lasted two years. And so on. The stronger the priest was, the longer the king survived. The kingdom endured the never-ending, fast-paced changing of the ruler until the birth of "Solvantar's Favorite Creation".
"It was high time that the true royal bloodline should rule the kingdom!" A roar among the crowd silenced the people. It came from none other than the weak, young imperial heir who was cast aside decades ago. He was now a raggedy old man whose pride and greed still flickered in his wrinkled eyes.
This weak, old imperial heir finally sat upon the throne, accompanied by a priest. He asked for "Solvantar's Favorite Creation" to be by his side. But what madness! How could an infant fight against the evil that dooms the throne?
The temple was enraged by this, but they had to honor the promise they had made; therefore, they sent groups of priests to the new king's side and convinced him that the child still needed training.
With heaps of priests fighting the evil that plagued the throne, dying one by one, the king ruled for many years. He had a son from one of his countless concubines, but the fate of that child was grim. He was neglected, forgotten, and above all, cursed.
Because of the arrogant king, the Solvantar's temple suffered a priest shortage. Of course, why would anyone be a priest, only to be sent to the king's palace and die? Due to this, the king's holy companions decreased, and soon, the claws of the evil throne gradually closed upon him.
A lightning struck the spire of the temple, and the High Seer, one known as the messenger of Solvantar, prophesied: Vasterion has one ending. Prosperity. Or destruction. A king will be saved by my chosen one. Or a kingdom will be cursed by its own ruler.
The High Seer pointed his finger at the cursed, young prince, and his covered eyes gazed upon the young, handsome lad.
With the graceful flutter of his sleeves as he put his hands together in front, the young, handsome priest bowed and accepted his fate. He set out to save the cursed prince. He fought the entities trying to pull the kingdom into ruins, and finally, after much hardship, the cursed prince arose as the new king.
With the young, handsome priest by the cursed king's side, the kingdom prospered. The evil that dwelt in the throne was purged, and the curse of the king was lifted. The Kingdom of Vasterion became a vast, abundant, and rich land. The people sang praises to the wise king and his savior.
"...the end."