Chapter Text
In the tumultuous realm existed a sovereign whose ill-tempered disposition cast a cloud over his world.
His anger was a quiet rage—a controlled fury, simmering in silence yet pulsating with an ominous energy that demanded attention.
Amongst everyone in his court, only the king's trusted advisor could navigate the treacherous waters of his simmering anger, always on the brink of eruption at the slightest provocation.
Yet, his anger, unjustified as it may be, stemmed from a deep-rooted contempt for the simple joys of the world—be it shared laughter amongst friends, the embrace of a lover, or the gentle warmth of a family.
He came from a lineage of sinners, with his ancestors' sins bringing demise over the entire bloodline. Despite the chance for redemption, the allure of corruption proved unconquerable. The grip of corruption would swiftly and silently lead to inevitable death. However, he defied the expected fate, escaping the clutches of evil.
This act of defiance angered the Fates. How dare he stray from his predestined path? Furious, they cast another curse upon him—one he couldn't escape. The Fates uttered the word wish and decreed that he must grant others their desires. Anyone could have anything they wished for, but only if they uttered the words. And so, he would be shacked for an endless time, tirelessly fulfilling the wishes of all who call upon him, never to die. Laughter echoed through the heavens as the Fates cursed him to eternal servitude, granting freedom only if someone wished.
Though everyone yearned for his liberation, none dared to expend their wishes on the king. After all, he was the sovereign with everything, while they possessed nothing. So, the king remained cursed for eons to be a prisoner to his throne; his escape attempts were futile, and the shackles of his curse wrapped around his wrists, chaining him to his seat.
His hatred for humanity deepened with each failed attempt, fueled by the perceived greed for wishes that bound him to his eternal suffering. But wishes were at the top of his list amongst everything he disdained.
Oh, how he hated wishes—those whimsical threads of hope woven into fairytales for the simple-minded humans. Absurdly, these threads were the essence of his salvation, but they also served as the chains that confined him to his dreadful fate.
He pleaded with the Fates for forgiveness and bargained for a deal that would, at least, spark a glimmer of hope into his existence.
The Fates, though not overly compassionate, took pity on him. They relented, allowing him to determine the recipients of the wishes through a challenging journey. Wishers would have to prove their worth to manifest their desires. However, on one crucial condition —he was never to disclose the method of his liberation. It had to emerge genuinely from someone's heart, a sincere yearning for his freedom.
The king, grappling with despair, reluctantly agreed. Thus, each year, he was obligated to orchestrate a journey for those with seemingly impossible wishes or those desperate enough to participate, drawing participants from diverse realms, even those existing in parallel worlds.
He sighed resignedly at his fate, entertaining the hope that perhaps his redemption would arrive one day once the universe determined that he had suffered enough. Yet, for now, he would enjoy the solace in this fleeting peace.
However, the peace was short-lived, shattered by the unwelcome intrusion of his advisor.
His advisor stepped into the room and gave him a grim smile.
"Your majesty, I have news," his advisor said.
He sighed with irritation and gestured for his advisor to proceed. "Well, get on with it."
"It is time," the advisor said grimly.
his day, momentarily serene, had been disrupted, and the universe, relentless in its pursuit of torment, had thrust him back into the malevolent games
However, these were not your typical childhood games. No, the rules were ambiguous in this ominous realm, and the shadows obscured the stakes. Literally, unwilling pawns in a nefarious game, the participants were drawn into a chilling drama where victory came at the cost of a soul's moral compromise.
The king, indifferent to their troubles, accepted The Quill of Destiny and The Book of Dreamweaver's Codex from his advisor. He picked up the quill and began writing.
As his quill danced across the pages, he imparted a chilling warning to those who dared to wish, sealing their fate with irreversible choices.
"Be cautious about what you wish for," the king said with a voice that resonated with the exhaustion of centuries. "Once the wish escapes your lips, once this ink marks the page, there is no turning back. Your fate is a tapestry woven with the threads of your desires; each wish you utter a knot that binds you to a chosen path."
He paused, letting the gravity of his words settle upon the room like a heavy shroud. The quill hovered over the Book of Dreamweaver's Codex as he took a moment to consider the inevitable transformation that would soon follow.
"You shall navigate the labyrinth of your altered existence, grappling with the consequences of your desires," he continued, his gaze unwavering. "Until you wish again," he concluded, his voice a sinister whisper that lingered in the air like a haunting tremor.
The quill hovered in his grasp as he deliberated his next move. Weighing the consequence of his next stroke, and in the moment of hesitancy, he made a wish—a thought so perilous, he would never dare to utter it aloud—the thought—so dangerous that even the Fates themselves trembled at its audacity.
He slammed the book shut and shot it an amused glance. Curious to see how the Fates would react now, he intended to rewrite his future and break free from the shackles of the curse imprisoning him. A small laugh escaped him as he looked at the book. Oh, the intrigue of it all—what would unfold now? He had dared to venture into uncharted territory, a move that not even the Fates themselves had contemplated.
The king, surrounded in the shadows of his foreboding chamber, emitted a sinister laughter that echoed through the air, where even the shadows that clung to him scurried away in fear.
This author wishes the king's warnings had reached a pair of unsuspecting twins lost in their past and aspirations. Oblivious to the despair that awaited them when their seemingly hopeful wishes would spiral into an unforeseen nightmare.