## Chapter 1: The Demon's Cradle (Reborn)
The first breath Prince Cyrus took was not air, but **vengeance**.
It tore through his newborn lungs—a searing cocktail of sulfur, blood-iron, and the cloying rot of *ambition*. Torchlight slithered across obsidian walls like dying serpents. Above him loomed a face carved from nightmares and desire: Lady Selene, his mother. Ivory horns spiraled toward the vaulted ceiling, her emerald eyes dissecting him like a strategist surveying a battlefield. Her clawed thumb scraped birthing fluids from his cheek.
**"Breathe, little weapon,"** she murmured, voice velvet-wrapped steel. **"The game begins now."**
*Survival*, Cyrus's mind hissed, sharper than any infant's thoughts should be. *Then power.*
---
### The Poisoned Cradle
A rat-tailed maid scuttled forward, chalice trembling. **"Milk for the prince, my lady."**
Cyrus's mercury eyes locked onto the vessel. His senses—unnervingly acute—recoiled. *Belladonna.* Sweetness masking decay. A concubine's welcome gift.
**"Drink, Cyrus,"** Selene commanded, pressing the rim to his lips.
*No.* The refusal was a silent detonation in his skull. He thrashed, tiny fist striking the chalice. It clattered, milk hissing as it etched scars into stone.
The maid paled. Selene's grip tightened—possessive, approving. **"Clever boy."** Her smile held no warmth, only the glacial satisfaction of a sculptor finding flawless marble. **"Poison is the first language here. You understood."**
In the shadows, Physician Gorath's needle-claws twitched. His scaled face betrayed nothing, but Cyrus felt the *hunger* in his gaze—a lesser demon weighing the risk of strangling a royal babe.
---
### The Court of Knives
Over the next weeks, Cyrus learned his world:
- **The Nursery:** A gilded cage smelling of wet stone and paranoid incense.
- **His Half-Siblings:** Vexa, age 4, who hissed at his crib; Kael, age 7, who threw daggers at a target painted with Cyrus's name.
- **The Whispers:** *"Selene's whelp won't last the month… Too frail… Perfect prey."*
One night, as Selene feigned sleep, Cyrus rolled toward a glint—an obsidian shard fallen from the wall. He sliced his palm deliberately. Black blood welled, thick as tar.
*First blood,* he thought. *Mine. Not taken.*
Pain was a dialect. He would master its grammar.
---
### The Training Yards - Age 3
Cyrus staggered toward the sound of clashing steel—a courtyard where demon children sparred with live blades. Vexa, now 6, drove a spiked knee into a boy's throat. Crimson sprayed the onlookers—concubines, generals, the Demon King himself—all applauding.
**"Your brothers and sisters,"** Selene whispered, lifting Cyrus onto her hip. **"Kill them, or be their stepping stone."**
Kael, now 10, spotted Cyrus. **"Look! The cripple thinks he can walk!"** He lunged, boot slamming Cyrus's chest. Ribs shrieked. Cyrus crashed onto stone, vision swimming.
**`do- Crawl toward Kael's fallen dagger`**
→ *d20 (Willpower):* **18** (Critical!)
Cyrus grabbed the blade. With a guttural snarl, he stabbed Kael's thigh.
**"INSOLENT WRETCH!"** Kael backhanded him. Cyrus's forehead cracked on obsidian. Blood blinded him.
Selene watched, impassive. **"Scars are lessons, Cyrus. Remember who gave this one."**
The silver line above his eyebrow would never fade.
---
### Kraz'thul's Gaze
That night, feverish from pain, Cyrus dreamed of six eyes in the void. A voice colder than cosmic dark whispered:
**"Scar them back, little prince."**
He woke screaming. Frost coated his crib.
---
### The Demon King's Notice
High in the Black Citadel, the Demon King felt the ripple—a spike of defiance in the infant's blood. He stood at a bone-framed window, hellfire crown devouring the light. Below, a treasonous duke choked on molten gold.
**"Selene's creature draws attention,"** his shadow-serpent hissed. **"Crush it."**
The king's gaze drifted north. **"No. Let the concubines sharpen their knives. Weakness deserves a slow death."**
He crushed the duke's signet ring. **"But mark him… *differently*."**
---
### The Blood Tournament - Age 5
On Cyrus's fifth birthday, children were herded into the Pits—a sunken arena strewn with bones. The Demon King's voice boomed:
**"Last child standing earns a boon. Begin."**
Twenty demon spawn descended into chaos. Vexa shattered a boy's spine with a rock. Kael disemboweled a girl laughing. Cyrus, smallest and swiftest, darted between legs.
**`do- Trip Vexa into Kael's blade`**
→ *d20 (Agility):* **15**
Vexa stumbled. Kael's sword pierced her shoulder. She howled, turning on him.
Cyrus scrambled toward the only weapon left—a rusted nail.
**`do- Jam nail into Kael's heel.
Kael whirled, snapping Cyrus's pinky finger. **"DIE, VERMIN!"**
Agony blinded Cyrus. But as Kael raised his sword, the ground erupted. Obsidian spikes impaled three children. The King's shadow-serpent uncoiled above the carnage.
**"Enough. The cripple showed… *ingenuity*."**
Cyrus's reward? A vial of manticore venom. *"For your mother's tea,"* the king smirked.
---
### The Weight of Crowns
That night, Selene examined Cyrus's crooked finger. **"You failed to kill Kael."**
**"He's stronger,"** Cyrus rasped.
**"Strength is a lie."** She pressed the venom vial into his palm. **"*This* is power. Unseen. Inevitable."**
As Cyrus slept, Kraz'thul's voice returned:
**"Your father fears catalysts. Become an *explosion*."**
Frost spread from Cyrus's bed. The nursery walls cracked.
Awakens
At dawn, Cyrus stood before his fractured reflection. Silver scar. Crooked finger. Eyes like frozen mercury.
*They see a pawn,* he thought. *But games have rules.*
He raised his maimed hand. Shadows pooled in his palm—a flicker of something *hungry*.
Lady Selene watched from the doorway, a smile touching her lips.
**"Not a player, my king,"** she whispered toward the citadel's peak.
> **Next Chapter:** *"The Crooked Finger"* – Cyrus poisons Kael, igniting a concubine war. Kraz'thul's first quest: **"Kill a hero before sunrise.