A deafening roar shatters the uneasy silence, but it is not anger that shakes the walls—it is pure, unbridled terror. Wolves, once loyal companions lurking in the shadows, now scatter and dart toward the open doors, their howls echoing as they vanish into the night. In the midst of the chaos stands Rye, eyes wide with dread, clutching a mysterious tome as the voice of KYSCO booms unseen across the chamber.
[@ch_2]KYSCO (V.O.)[/@ch_2_d]"Your fate is now, good bye for now, Rye."[/@ch_2_d]
Rye roars, but the sound is broken and desperate as the last wolf flees.
Rye storms up the staircase, the heavy tome clutched tightly in his hands. He does not look back as he ascends, his mind whirling with dread and defiance. Behind him, Gerald, an ogre with sorrowful eyes, lumbers after, concern etched across his face.
"Wait, your majesty!"
Rye, ignoring Gerald, tightens his grip on the book and pushes forward, determined yet fearful.
Rye bursts into his chamber, his breath ragged, and flings the door wide. Gerald enters tentatively, his large frame filling the doorway.
"Your majesty, I told you not to touch the book, but no—"
Before Gerald can finish, Rye hurls a metal goblet with remarkable force. Gerald ducks, the goblet clattering harmlessly against the wall.
"What was that for!"
"This is my room and you entered without permission."
"You could have killed me!"
Rye rises, bristling with anger and pain.
"Good bye, Gerald."
"But your majesty—"
"I said good bye."
Gerald bows his head, wounded, and shuffles from the room, sorrow heavy in his steps.
Furious and trembling, Rye slams the book onto the table, its cover embossed with cryptic symbols. With a guttural snarl, he tears the book open, pages fluttering wildly, emitting an unearthly glow. The chamber fills with shimmering light as the book’s voice reverberates, chilling and ancient.
[@ch_4]Book (V.O.)[/@ch_4_d]"Yes, master. Find love before the pages vanish… or be lost forever."[/@ch_4_d]
Suddenly, the glowing pages crumble into ash, sifting through Rye’s fingers like sand.
Rye buries his face in his hands, the weight of the impossible curse pressing down on him. For the first time in his life, he feels utterly powerless—small and lost, adrift in a world that now feels colder and more unforgiving than ever. His voice trembles as he mourns his fate.
"This is impossible to find. Where am I gonna find this?"
The moonlight seems to shrink around him, casting long, lonely shadows on the walls.
[@ch_5]Narrator[/@ch_5_d]"Will he ever find love, or is that too far away for him to reach?"[/@ch_5_d]
Rye sits motionless, hope flickering and fading like the candlelight. The ashes of the book drift toward the open window, carried by the wind into the unknown. Somewhere in the vast darkness, the fate of Rye hangs in the balance, waiting for the first spark of love to break the curse.
