THE CURSE
The world of magic and enlightened by the magic Aka orenda of nation. Some people used the magic for good and evil until the king aka Crown Prince Vincent Laosel came into rule. The world became evil over evil spirits.
Vincent had trained men for him and one of the men is Tuberic Chase, for the record. His skin is adorned with intricate tattoo sleeves that coil around his powerful forearms, biceps, and shoulders, His jaw is strong and angular, covered in a dark stubble that accents. His hair is short and messy, black, with subtle brown undertones that catch the light. His eyes are piercing black as the night, framed by thick lashes that give him an almost unreal beauty. He has a small, faint scar running diagonally across his lips, a memento from a long-ago fight that only adds to his rugged charm. He has a massive, detailed scorpion tattoo inked onto his broad back; the creature's tail curled menacingly over his right shoulder. Beneath the tattoo, a jagged, puckered scar runs vertically down his spine, evidence of a deep wound that he miraculously survived. Son of God. "All the women in that century were drawn to him, but he wasn't interested in their false advances. He could have had almost any woman - single or taken - with just a nod, but he preferred solitude. He wasn't moved by fake smiles."
"As weeks turned into months, he grew closer to Vincent, earning the man's unwavering trust. Flushed with pride and loyalty, Vincent tasked him with retrieving a rare, deadly venom from the heart of the Basilisk Cave, a trial he deemed essential for his protege's ascension." He accepted the challenge without a moment’s hesitation. Vincent’s voice was sharp and commanding as he warned, "If you fail to bring me the venom, there will be consequences far worse than death." The threat loomed heavy in the air. Tuberic set out to retrieve the venom, but as the days dragged on, he returned, defeated and empty-handed. With his head bowed low, he approached King Vincent and spoke, his voice laced with regret, “Your Majesty, I beg your forgiveness. I failed. I could not obtain the venom from the basilisks”. Vincent rose from his throne, his gaze cold and unyielding. "Tuberic," he declared, "you have failed my challenge, and now you must face your fate. You have two choices before you, One, you will perish in the flames, your body consumed by the fire. Or two, you will live—but at a grave cost. By day, you will become a scorpion, a creature of terror and poison. Yet, when night falls, you will return to your human form. Choose wisely, Tuberic."
Tuberic’s body was tense, every muscle tight with uncertainty. His mind raced as he faced the impossible choice: embrace the scorpion form in the daylight, with all its power and beauty, but lose a part of himself, or remain human at all times. After a long moment of hesitation, he made the decision. By day, he would take the scorpion’s shape, its strength overwhelming him. But when night fell, he would return to his human form, vulnerable and familiar. The choice wasn’t easy, but it was the only way to move forward.
As he chose his path Tuberic was caught between two worlds, each with its price to pay Tuberic had taken refuge in the basement of his Uncle Twinson's house, a place of solitude where he could hide from the world. The cold, dimly lit space became his sanctuary, his only escape from the pressure of the outside world and his constant battle with the scorpion inside him. But even in the dark, Tuberic had become a force to be reckoned with. His human form was now just as powerful as the creature he transformed into by day. He had learned to fight with precision, honed his strength, and developed an unshakable will. His time in the basement, once a prison, had forged him into someone both physically and mentally formidable. Every day, every night, he grew stronger. Though the shape-shifting remained a curse, it had ultimately shaped him into someone who could no longer be broken, no matter the form he wore.
The maid descended into the basement, her eyes scanning the dark corners as she went about her cleaning. Suddenly, a glint caught her attention—there, in the shadows, was a massive scorpion. Its gold and silver exoskeleton shimmered, and its ruby eyes gleamed with an unnatural, predatory intelligence. The air seemed to grow colder as she froze, her breath catching in her throat. Its pincers clicked menacingly, and her legs shook as she took a step back, but the creature’s gaze never left her. A sharp, rattling sound echoed in the silence as the scorpion lifted its tail, poised to strike. Terror paralyzed her, her heart racing as the room felt smaller and darker. She gasped, her body trembling, trapped between fear and the horror of what she was seeing an oversized scorpion, its body a striking blend of shimmering gold, silver, and deep black. The metallic hues catch the light as it moves, creating a captivating, almost hypnotic gleam. The scorpion's legs are strong and angular, each one wrapped in an intricate pattern of gold and silver, giving it an almost armored appearance. Its massive pincers are powerful, a mix of gleaming black with touches of gold along the edges, accentuating their sharpness. At the top of its head, three radiant rubies are embedded, each one glowing with a deep red intensity. These rubies seem like precious jewels, their facets sparkling like stars in the dark. However, there is an empty space on the scorpion’s head where one ruby should be. The absence of the ruby adds an intriguing mystery to the creature, as if it were once whole but now carries a trace of something lost. This mythical scorpion stands as a symbol of strength, beauty, and enigma, a creature born from the fusion of precious metals and rare gemstones, with an aura that feels both ancient and powerful. Despite the fear gnawing at her, the maid found herself stepping closer, her eyes unable to look away from the scorpion's mesmerizing beauty. The golden and silver hues of its exoskeleton shimmered with an almost hypnotic allure, and the rubies on its head seemed to pulse with a strange, eerie glow. Each movement it made was graceful, almost elegant, in its deadly precision. The terror that gripped her heart fought against the pull of fascination, but she couldn't stop herself. With every step, she felt herself drawn deeper into its spell, mesmerized by the creature's haunting, otherworldly presence as if it held a dark, irresistible power over her.