They say if you are born in blood, you become the hand of Death himself. My mother, Marcella, was the first to be raptured on the day of my birth. Some claim I ripped myself from her womb, tearing apart the country as she lay dying. To those who were loyal to the crown, I was a savior sent from the Gods to claim the throne and protect them from the savages who had threatened to overtake our land.
Others say I was cut from her belly with a broadsword in an attempt to end the Blood Reign of King Ignatius, my father, out of fear I was their ruler reincarnated, seeking vengeance for those who had left him for dead the night before. His courtesan, my mother, was his sacrifice for his passage back from purgatory.
I was born an orphan and a legend with my first breath. My silver spoon was replaced with an iron blade and my wealth with a bounty on my head. I lived in the shadows, lurking amongst the bastards and the beggars with no moral compass to guide me as I stumbled through life, carrying the heavy burden of my past in secrecy. The few who dared to speak my name knew me as Justus Beiste; just beast.I was untamable and bowed to no man or god, ruled only by my desires. But the one thing I craved most, I could never have for fear she too would fall victim to my curse.