The dawn after the curse lifted was silent. No birds sang over the palace walls, no servants dared approach. The grand kingdom of Eldoria—once gleaming like gold in the morning sun—now felt hollow, its marble halls echoing with shame.
Prince Kael awoke by the burned throne, his hands raw with soot and claw marks still etched into his skin. His mother, Queen Selara, sat beside him—her eyes dull, her silver hair streaked with ash. The fire that had freed them still smoldered faintly, the crown reduced to molten gold.
> "It's over," Kael whispered.
"No, my son," the queen said, voice trembling. "It has only begun."
Their kingdom had seen the smoke, the strange lights, the roaring beasts. Rumors spread faster than truth: The royal family has gone mad. They worship the night. They turned into monsters.
By midday, the gates of Eldoria shook under the weight of angry fists. Peasants and soldiers alike demanded answers. The king, weakened and silent, refused to face them. So it was Kael—once the beast of the night—who stepped forward.
Clad not in silk or jewels, but in a simple tunic, he stood upon the palace balcony and spoke to the people.
> "You are right," he said. "Your king was a beast. Your queen, a serpent. And I—your prince—have roared against the heavens. We were cursed, not by sorcery, but by our own greed. I cannot ask for your forgiveness, but I will earn it."
The crowd fell silent. For the first time in generations, a royal spoke truth without pride.
That night, Kael gathered a handful of loyal guards and left the castle. He would travel across Eldoria, mending what his family's rule had broken—villages starved by high taxes, lands ruined by vanity projects, people forgotten in pursuit of luxury.
But as he rode through the dark forests, something stirred within him. The curse might have broken, yet its shadow still lingered. Every time fear crept into his heart, he heard it—the low, guttural growl of the beast inside him. It was weaker now, but not gone.
> "You cannot run from me," the voice whispered in his mind. "You are me."
Kael clenched his jaw. He would not let the beast define him again.
Meanwhile, Princess Lyra remained in Eldoria, helping her mother rebuild what pride had destroyed. She organized food for the poor, reopened schools, and turned the royal halls into shelters. Yet every sunset, she felt a strange pull to the highest tower—the one where she used to perch as a raven. Sometimes she swore she could still feel feathers brush her shoulders.
A darkness was brewing beyond the borders—something the curse had held at bay for centuries. The old sorceress, far in her forest, watched through a pool of black water. Her cracked lips curled into a smile.
> "They think the curse is broken," she murmured. "But the night is patient. The beast was never the punishment... it was the guardian."