It had been dark for several hours, so Melody knew her brother would arrive soon. Despite everything, her day hadn't been so bad—thanks in part to that little girl who had given so much just to hear a few songs. It was only her first day in Aldremir, and she felt the gods had truly smiled upon her. At this rate, she might actually be able to help her sister Melibeth.
"I'm glad you're here, Mel. Sorry to keep you waiting, but the farmers at the tavern were celebrating the harvest. Sister, I brought you something for dinner. You must be starving."
Bastian handed her a cloth-wrapped bundle. Inside, she found a piece of bread, a wedge of cheese, and a few slices of meat. Then he gave her a canteen of water.
"Bastian, thank you! It smells delicious. But have you eaten? I don't mind sharing."
"Don't be silly—I had a good meal at the tavern. Come on, Mel. After you eat, I'll give you a little sweet surprise. Sit by the fountain and eat in peace. Then we'll join the others and get some sleep."
"Okay, everything looks great. And thanks again for the food. Take the violin bag—my earnings are in there. You keep them. You know I'm too distracted. I might lose them."
It was true—she was easily distracted. She gave everything to her brother, but kept a few coins aside for tomorrow. She needed to find a doctor for Melibeth.
"Melody, you actually made sixteen crowns today! Sister, that's amazing. To earn that just by playing your violin in one afternoon—very few people manage that. I earned ten crowns today, but tomorrow luck will smile on me too," said the brown-haired boy, clearly excited.
"Well said. Let's go to sleep. I'm exhausted, and tonight I'll drop like a rock."
"But what about your surprise, Mel? Don't you want it anymore?"
"Of course I do. You can give it to me when we get to the carts. I'm cold and sleepy."
⋯ ❈ ⋯
In an old, dilapidated cabin, three men argued heatedly. Shadows filled the room, and the air reeked of damp wood and mold. The leader, his face red with fury, raised his voice, which echoed off the rotting walls.
"You've waited long enough for that girl! I won't tolerate any more delays. I've found a good buyer, and I won't disappoint my best customer."
One of the men, with a scar on his cheek and trembling hands, tried to explain:
"But sir, the girl was surrounded by people. We couldn't just grab her. Slavery in Alkarya is nearly abolished—the soldiers would've arrested us."
The leader, livid, shouted:
"You useless pair! She's a gypsy girl with no surname and no mourners. She's beneath a commoner—zero status. Gypsies are scum. One more, one less—who cares?"
⋯ ❈ ⋯
Prince Damien looked at his younger sister with a mixture of concern and reproach as he sat beside her. "Odette, what were you doing outside the palace? Something could have happened to you. Don't you realize you're the most important thing, sister?" he said sternly, though his eyes betrayed the affection he felt for her.
The little princess lowered her gaze, pouting adorably. "I know… but it's so boring being here all alone. You've told me such wonderful things about the city festivals… I just wanted to see them for myself," she replied in a soft, melancholy voice, trying to justify herself.
Damien sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "Yes, sweetie, but you can't just come and go like that. You could've asked me to take you."
"Let's be honest, Damien—you would've said no," Odette replied with a mischievous smile. Then her eyes lit up as she remembered something. "I made a friend! She's so pretty and plays the violin beautifully… Her music makes your feelings float," she exclaimed, spinning off the bed as if dancing to that invisible melody.
With pleading eyes, she looked up at her brother. "Damien, she's so beautiful… Will you take me to see her tomorrow, please?"
The prince frowned, trying to hide the tenderness that welled up at seeing her so excited. Before answering, he gently stroked Odette's head, as if trying to engrave the moment into memory. "I'll think about it," he replied evasively, hoping to calm her insistence. Then he added, "Now go to bed, before Rowena notices you're not in your room." Just saying the woman's name made his expression harden—he had never liked Rowena.
Odette, unaware of the tension in her brother's face, approached him with a sweet smile. "Before I go, I want to tell you something. I like you just the way you are. That curse they put on you only changed your body, but to me, your soul and your heart are still the same. That's what really matters, don't you think?" She reached out and gently touched Damian's cheek. "Besides, those little ears and that soft, fluffy tail make you look even cuter—when you're not scratching your medallion."
At her touch, Damian felt a chill run down his spine. It was strange how something so simple could make him feel so human, so connected to his sister. For a moment, he forgot the anger and frustration that always haunted him.
"Thank you, little flatterer. Now go to sleep," he said, lifting her gently off the bed.
Once alone, the prince removed his clothes and boots, remaining in black trousers and a white shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. Around his neck hung a chain with a stone of enigmatic blue, pulsing faintly in the dim light.
His thoughts drifted back to that fateful day ten years ago, when a curse had stolen part of his humanity. Though he still held onto his convictions and emotions, he knew something inside him had changed forever.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Damian closed his eyes and remembered the laughter of his mother, Queen Marion, before everything fell apart.
"It's been ten years since that curse," he reflected bitterly. "Part of my humanity was torn away… but I'm still me. One day, I'll stop being the demon that damned sorceress turned me into—on his orders… the damned Duke of Azaír."
There was no concrete proof, but Damien was convinced that the power-hungry duke was behind all his family's misfortunes—including the attack on the palace that had cost his mother her life.
"Your death will not be in vain, Mother," he murmured, clenching his fists. "No matter what happens, that greedy social climber will never take the crown of Alkarya."
For a moment, Damian's thoughts returned to Odette. Her innocence and joy were the only things that kept him anchored to reality. If anything ever happened to her, he didn't know what he would do. Maybe that was why he got so angry every time the little girl put herself in danger. But deep down, he knew he couldn't protect her forever.
Sooner or later, he would have to face the Duke and bring this nightmare to an end.
With those thoughts swirling in his mind, Damien lay down and closed his eyes, searching for a moment of peace in the midst of the storm.
━━ ༺ ⚜ 🦊 ⚜ ༻ ━━
Queen Marion walked through the palace gardens, her long dress flowing gently with each step. The afternoon sun bathed the place in golden light, but her face showed a mixture of concern and tenderness as she searched for her little prince.
"Damien, where are you, my child?" she called softly, her eyes scanning the flower-lined paths. She knew her son had a habit of getting lost among the bushes and flowers when he wanted to be alone or simply enjoy nature.
She finally found him crouching next to a bed of tulips, focused on something he was holding delicately in his hands. A warm smile spread across her face when she saw him so absorbed. "Ah, there you are, my little prince," she said, approaching him with light steps. "What are you doing?"
Little Damien looked up at his mother, his eyes shining with innocence and pride. "I'm picking a tulip for you, the prettiest one to put in your hair, Mother," he replied, showing her a vibrant red flower he had carefully selected.
"Oh, Damien, you are a ray of sunshine, my little prince!" exclaimed Marion, kneeling down to his level and stroking his hair tenderly as she admired the flower. "You, my child, and your little brother or sister, are my greatest treasure."
The prince smiled broadly at his mother's words, but his expression soon turned thoughtful. He reached out his hand to Marion's bulging belly and caressed it gently. "Mother, I want it to be a girl, as pretty as you," he said dreamily.
Marion felt her heart melt at her son's sweetness. She wanted to hug him, but her advanced pregnancy prevented her from doing so as she would have liked. Instead, she leaned down to kiss his forehead. "It will be a wonderful girl or boy, just like you, Damien. Both of you will always be my greatest treasures."
However, before they could continue sharing that intimate moment, the atmosphere changed dramatically. A cold, heavy breeze began to blow, bringing with it a dense, dark cloud that enveloped the garden. The air became oppressive, and a figure shrouded in purple mist appeared before them.
"Damien, stay behind me," whispered Marion, instinctively placing herself between the mysterious figure and her son. Her tone was firm, but her eyes reflected concern.
"Yes, Mother," replied the boy, obeying immediately. Although he tried to appear brave, his small body trembled slightly.
"Are you Queen Marion?" asked a cold, resonant voice that seemed to emerge from the shadow itself. The figure advanced slowly, emanating an unsettling energy.
"What do you want, and what are you? How dare you come here?" Marion questioned, facing the intruder with royal dignity. Her posture was imposing, but her hands clutched protectively at her belly.
"Oh, Your Majesty, do you really want to know how I entered the palace?" replied the sorceress with a mocking laugh. "Well, it doesn't matter, but I will tell you that several of your soldiers have fallen." Her words were like daggers, designed to sow fear.
The revelation put Marion on high alert. Her priority was to protect Damien, and it was clear that this woman did not have good intentions. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice as sharp as the edge of a sword.
"I came to give a gift to your unborn child," the sorceress replied with disdain. "You said that your two children are your greatest treasure, right, my queen? Will you still say that even if one of them becomes a demon? An uncontrollable beast, capable of destroying the entire town of Alkarya. I don't think you'll like the idea of a monster as your guide and ruler."
The fog slowly began to dissipate, revealing a tall, slender woman dressed entirely in black. Her straight, dark hair fell like a waterfall over her shoulders, and her eyes glinted with a malevolent sparkle.
"Leave my children out of this! They are innocent!" Marion pleaded, her words broken by sobs. The implications of what the sorceress was saying had paralyzed her with terror.
"It doesn't matter who is innocent or guilty here," replied the woman indifferently, "I only came to fulfill a task. Work is work."
The sorceress then began to recite a chant in an unknown language. Her hands glowed purple as she wove a dark spell. "Make this innocent being a child of shadows and deceit, devoid of a human heart. Make this creature a beast without conscience, to be the perfect prison for the ungodly heir of the gods."
The spell was cast directly at Queen Marion's womb. But something unexpected happened: the prince's body acted as a barrier, protecting the unborn baby. Instead, the impact of the curse rebounded toward Damien. The little prince fell to his knees, his body enveloped in a dark aura that consumed him. Hairy ears similar to those of a fox sprouted on top of his head, followed by a long, reddish tail, sharp claws, and prominent fangs. His breathing was labored, but he made no sound.
"What have you done to my son?! Damn witch, turn my Damien back to normal!" Marion shouted, kneeling beside her son. She took him in her arms, cradling him desperately. "Damien, my son, are you all right? Everything will be fine, little one," she whispered in a trembling voice.
The boy, now transformed, opened his eyes wide. His aquamarine gaze was wild, his pupils dilated. With a sudden movement, he swiped at his mother, tearing her dress. Then, without making a sound, he ran to a nearby tree and climbed it with superhuman agility. From there, he watched everything with a mixture of confusion and rage.
"Your Majesty! Are you all right?" asked one of the maids, running to the queen to help her up.
"Bring King Darius and the best magicians in Alkarya!" ordered Marion, her voice urgent. But before they could do anything else, her emotions and accumulated stress caused her to go into labor. That rainy night marked the birth of a new princess, who was christened Odette, the new jewel of the royal family.
However, the joy at the arrival of the little girl was overshadowed by the tragedy surrounding Damien. Not even the best sorcerers could reverse the curse. King Darius, desperate, traveled to the distant nation of Azrrahen in search of a solution. There he found the Amulet of Hirios, a powerful magical object that, although it did not break the curse, allowed Damien's demonic blood to remain sealed and his human form to be preserved.
Upon his return, Darius received the devastating news of the failed attack on the palace and the death of his beloved Marion, who had fought bravely to protect her kingdom and her children.
From that day on, the king was never the same. His contempt for the gypsy people, whom he blamed for the attack, grew into deep hatred.
And so, under the weight of the curse and loss, the royal family of Alkarya faced an uncertain future, with Damien caught between two worlds and Odette destined to be the light that would guide the kingdom.
━━ ༺ ⚜ 🦊 ⚜ ༻ ━━
Damien sat on the edge of his bed, his reddish hair tangled in his hands as he clutched it desperately. His aquamarine eyes reflected a mixture of sorrow and restrained rage.
"I'm a disaster… How can I be king when I'm a beast? Alkarya will want my head when they find out what I am—a demon," he muttered in a broken voice, almost as if speaking to himself.
King Darius watched his son from the doorway, his imposing figure contrasting with the young prince's vulnerability. With slow, deliberate steps, he approached and sat beside him.
He placed a firm yet affectionate hand on Damian's shoulder. "No, son. You are not a beast. On the contrary, you're a hero. You saved your mother and your little sister that day. That is priceless, Damian."
The prince looked up at his father, but his eyes were clouded with doubt. "You say that because I'm your son. But what will the kingdom say when they learn I'm a demon? Hirios' amulet may conceal my appearance, but it doesn't change what I truly am. Sooner or later, the pendant will lose its effect."
His tone was bitter, heavy with frustration.
Darius frowned. "Damian!" he said sharply, his voice echoing through the room. The young prince flinched slightly but didn't look away.
"It is your birthright. As long as your intentions are noble and your heart loyal to Alkarya, it doesn't matter whether you're human or demon. Believe me, that's the least of it. Only your sister, your mother—may she rest in peace—I, and possibly your future queen will know the truth."
Damian rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue in annoyance. "The cat's out of the bag," he muttered, crossing his arms.
It was clear he didn't want to continue the conversation, especially now that his father had brought up marriage and duty.
King Darius sighed deeply, resigned to his son's resistance. He knew Damian had always been stubborn, but this time the conflict ran deeper. He feared not only for the crown, but for the weight of the curse that tormented his son night after night.
"Damian, you're twenty now. You should start looking for a princess. It's time to settle down and stop chasing courtesans."
The prince feigned an exaggerated yawn—not from sleepiness, but from weariness with the subject. "I want to sleep, Father. Good night," he said, turning his back to him.
Darius shook his head and rose slowly. Before leaving, he paused in the doorway and looked at his son one last time.
"All right, Damian. Get some rest. But this conversation is still pending—and you won't be able to avoid it much longer, little fox."
When the door closed behind him, Damian remained motionless, his thoughts circling his father's words. He had never told anyone—not even Darius—about the nightmares that haunted him night after night.
He wasn't just afraid of being a bad king. What truly terrified him was losing himself—being consumed by the beast growing inside him, threatening to devour his humanity. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw its claws, its fangs, its bulging eyes… and the void that loomed behind them.
With a heavy sigh, Damian covered his face with his hands, trying to push those dark thoughts away. But he knew that sooner or later, he would have to face them—both them and his destiny.