A/N: Hello lovelies! Welcome to Chronicles of Astoria! Please note that this is a VERY rough draft for The Black Curse and it will be edited, revised, and published. When it is published, all but the first chapter will be removed (amazon will not allow me to keep it up and I could get banned from their platform). I really hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think!

Also, I have no idea what the posting schedule for this looks like yet, so stay tuned.

Prologue

Present Day

"The trees...they scream. The layers of reality writhe and tremble, breaking open the darkness, unleashing what sleeps..."

Aldric ran his fingers through the blades, relishing in the soft caresses that even through their suffering, sought to gift comfort. They cupped his body through the thin white chiffon that dressed him while his skin and the world around him were illuminated by the moon's light.

"The rift, it grows, it howls. If they do not wake soon, it will be too late," Aldric whispered, glittering tears falling from his pink jeweled eyes. Unseeing, yet seeing all.

"Another vision, Seer?" Domir asked, kneeling in the grass beside him, placing the basin of Lunar water down beside them. 

"The shadows sing and the Gods whisper. But the Clouds do not speak." 

Though the Seer spoke softly, his voice echoed in the atrium, the glass dome seeming to cultivate the sound. 

Domir frowned, brushing Aldric's flushed skin, flinching at the heat. Worry clouded his features, more so when Aldric winced. 

"Should I send for a Healer?" He asked. 

Aldric's breath left in a shaky rush. He cupped his lover's cheek. "No, my sanctuary, I am fine."

His smile eased the concern from Domir's expression, but he could still hear the calls of the moon, and the trees continued to scream.

***

The familiar whimper of a mouth begging for milk grew in sound, piercing through the darkness of the room. A quiet shuffle of sheets followed the cries, with a soft humming. 

The gold-skinned Incubus didn't look the slightest bit tired, though he must have been after a long day of meetings and overseeing the new construction being done to the palace. Instead, he silently lifted the whimpering newborn into his arms and offered a soft coo before bringing her to the bed. 

High King Killian Innis was already up, eyes barely open as he held his arms out for the baby, robe already parted, milk beginning to stain the satin. Caspian handed the baby over and crawled back into the mass of bodies on the bed who gently shifted in response. 

The princess latched on greedily to the nipple offered, contentedly suckling. Killian barely winced, used to the pain. At least Marsh hadn't woken. The twins were oddly in sync, down to their feeding times. 

Killian wanted to lay back down and tuck Aaia close so she could still feed while allowing him to get a few more minutes of sleep, but the position often made her sick. In the end, it wasn't worth it. So he sat up, holding her up in his arms while his eyelids drooped with exhaustion. 

Not realizing his eyes had closed completely, arms came around him, warm and strong, supporting his failing hold. 

Killian leaned back against the familiar chest. 

"You need more sleep," the deep voice rumbled. His black-skinned lover placed a soft kiss on the back of Killian's neck. Not too long ago, Killian had struggled to receive such tenderness from him. Now, it came so freely. Funny how losing a part of himself opened up the other half.

But was it worth it?

Killian's chest panged with the fresh pain of all the loss he suffered. Not once given the opportunity to breathe, to grieve. Constantly in motion from the moment the life left his father's body. 

He had lost so much. His father, his brother, his cousin, Kara...

Sotershai.

"I feel your pain," Rem whispered. Killian gasped, fighting it back until that familiar numbness that allowed him to keep going–to push through with all the change that needed to happen–settled over him once again. Cold. Detached. 

"I'm fine," the High King whispered. Sounding tired. Just tired. When he was so much more than that. 

Rem didn't say anything. He knew. Just as all Killian's lovers knew. But they did not say a word, to speak it meant to crack the delicate facade Killian had managed to build. Unfortunately, it was that facade that Astoria needed most right now. Though they had narrowly escaped their plight, it was far from over. Yehwin, their familiar, confirmed as much. 

When wrath comes to find you, you will see me again.

Killian let the words from his cousin ruminate in his head, unable to figure out the significance. 

Their suffering had not come to an end, only a beginning.