A World of Glory and Ruin

Elaria was a realm of grandeur, where towering kingdoms, majestic spires, and sprawling cities sprawled under endless skies. Magic pulsed through the land, shaping destinies with every heartbeat, crafting wonders that defied belief. Nobles, adventurers, scholars, and wizards carved their names in history, driven by ambition and desire.

In this world, power came in many forms—bloodlines that traced back to the divine, artifacts with untold might, and of course, magic. The royal families held dominion over the land, their reigns unchallenged, their banners billowing proudly above the cities. The Temple of Lumis, an ancient order of holy mages, called upon the will of the gods to guide the people. And the Grand Academy stood as the pinnacle of knowledge, the institution that birthed heroes and legends.

But beneath the gleaming surface of this enchanted world, there lay a curse—a secret whispered in fear and trembling.

The Cursed Mark.

It was not a curse born of old legends or forgotten myths—it was a reality, etched into the skin of an innocent soul once every hundred years. Those who bore this mark were doomed from birth, their fates sealed before they could even understand the gravity of their existence.

Marked by crimson, the sigil would begin to glow, awakening untold power—powers so wild and dangerous that those who held it could bend the very fabric of reality. And yet, those same powers would eventually lead them to madness, transforming them into uncontrollable monsters.

No one knew what truly caused the madness or what lay beyond the suffering. All that was known was that the Cursed Mark would bring death, destruction, and the utter eradication of the marked.

History had proven it time and again.

But no one knew the truth of the mark's origin or its purpose. All the world saw was a danger that needed to be silenced.

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The Villain's Fate

Pain.

A sharp, throbbing ache shot through my skull as memories—not my own—flooded my mind, overwhelming me with emotions and experiences I had never lived. It felt like drowning in an ocean of foreign thoughts, gasping for air with every breath.

Then, the truth hit me.

I had died.

But now, I stood on the precipice of a new existence, awakened in the body of a villain—Prince Kael Veylan, the forgotten heir of the Veylan Royal Family.

The moment I became aware of myself, the reality of my situation struck me like a dagger through the heart. I wasn't just in some fantastical world. No, this was Elaria, the world of a novel I had once read in my previous life. A story of politics, ambition, and power.

And Kael Veylan? He was doomed—destined to die before the first volume concluded. Betrayed by those closest to him, thrown aside like a broken toy, his life would end in disgrace and execution. His death would be quick and brutal, a casualty of royal politics.

Not just a death—a humiliation.

The Cursed Mark burned on the back of my hand as if it had a life of its own—twisting, glowing with a red light that was too familiar. Too damning.

I stared at the sigil, the twisted, unholy mark that sealed my fate.

If anyone discovered this mark, I would be branded a monster. Executed. Hunted down. Erased from existence.

In the novel, Kael was no more than a footnote—a minor villain, insignificant to the plot, who stood in the way of the protagonist's rise. The Royal Family would cast him aside, the Temple would declare him an abomination, and the Academy would ignore his very existence.

But that would not be my fate.

This world no longer belonged to Kael.

It belonged to me.

And I would rewrite my story.

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The Chains of Fate

Kael's memories overwhelmed me—flashes of a childhood spent in isolation, of betrayal, and scorn. Born the third prince, he was never loved, never desired. His mother, a powerless concubine, had been discarded like an afterthought, leaving him to navigate the treacherous waters of the palace alone.

His brothers? They viewed him with disdain, seeing him as a weak, unworthy prince. The nobles whispered behind his back, mocking his lack of magical talent, seeing him as little more than a burden to the throne. Even the servants looked at him with pity, as if he were a shadow, destined to fade into nothingness.

Kael's life was nothing but a struggle for recognition, a fight against the current, always striving for a place in a world that had no room for him.

But then, the Cursed Mark appeared.

And it became the final blow.

A power that would never be understood, a curse that would ensure his downfall.

They would betray him.

They would abandon him.

And they would destroy him.

But what they didn't know—what Kael himself never realized—was that the Cursed Mark was not just a burden. It was a power. A force capable of shaping worlds.

I closed my eyes, feeling the heat of my own magic pulse beneath my skin. The raw, untamed energy surged, swirling inside me, begging to be unleashed.

If history demanded that I become a villain, a monster—then I would become something far, far worse.

---

A New Path

The sun rose over Veylan Palace, casting long shadows over the kingdom below. The golden light bathed the grand city that lay sprawling beneath my feet, its walls and towers gleaming as though untouched by time. The kingdom that would soon turn its back on me.

A familiar weight settled in my chest—a cold, sinking sensation, but it was no longer accompanied by the crushing weight of fear.

I had an advantage. A knowledge that none of my enemies possessed.

I knew what would happen.

I knew who would betray me.

I knew when disaster would strike.

I knew the paths that lay ahead.

And most importantly, I knew how to survive.

The world may have already decided my fate, but I would rewrite it.

I turned away from the balcony, stepping back into the shadows of my chamber. My time was short. The game had already begun.

I would become stronger.

I would keep my secrets.

I would survive.

Because in the end…

The Forgotten Prince would rise again.