When darkness falls, even flowers wither away.
Long ago, when time flowed like sand through her hair, Liora, the goddess of light, with eyes more beautiful than the most precious rubies and a face that even angels envied, purified evil and brought her light to the lands cursed by darkness, showing mercy to mortals and blessing those she chose.
One day, when the sorrows whispered by the earth reached the heavens, Liora's heart was shaken. And six tears fell from that sacred heart to the ground. Each tear echoed through the veins of the earth, and from those tears, six races were born: humans from courage, elves from knowledge, demons from fire, shadows from silence, werewolves from savagery, and vampires from the night.
These six tears carried a part of Liora's essence. Each race bore the traces of both light and darkness in their hearts. Some inherited mercy, some anger, some forgetfulness. And thus the world was shaped, and the earth was filled with spirit. Even when Liora ceased to walk among them, her name was not forgotten; for in every age, someone would see her eyes in their dreams, whisper her name, and remember her light.
"Mother, you tell the same story every time; I've almost memorized it."
"This is our creation myth, Noan, a beautiful legend that must be passed down from generation to generation."
Although these were my mother's last words before she died, I still don't like this legend.
Yes, friends, I am Noan Valerius, the third son of the king born into the royal family of the Human Kingdom.
My dear mother Fiora Valerius and my father King Ronan Valerius.
My siblings, my eldest brother Noctis and my sister Elira, and I are a very happy family.
Unfortunately, I cannot say that.
A very powerful curse inherited from the royal family has chosen me, and it seems I only have 30 years left to live.
According to records, this thousand-year-old curse found me, and unfortunately, I am currently 17 years old. The thorny vines that start from my back and extend to my arms cause people to look at me as if I were a demon.
If I were to say that this doesn't bother me, I would be lying—yes, it is quite bothersome.
That's why I usually prefer to wear long-sleeved clothes.
According to what's been said, the first king, Velcar, made a deal with a witch. The witch fulfilled her part of the deal, but the foolish Velcar went back on his word, so the witch placed a curse on him to shorten his life. Despite consulting many healers, no cure was found.
Before his death, the foolish Velcar fathered children with many women, and so far this curse has been seen in three people—I am the fourth.
But I refuse to accept the fate imposed on me because a man wearing a monkey costume broke his promise to a witch.
I'm sorry, but I refuse to die.
Yes, I can never allow my destiny to be ruined because of a monkey man.
That's why I decided to escape from the palace there was no hope from my family anyway.
My father doesn't even see me as his son. My siblings are looking for ways to humiliate me. My only support was my mother, but unfortunately she passed away last week.
Everyone thinks she died of a heart condition, but they're wrong my mother was poisoned, and I will prove it.
But first, we must break the curse.