Scattered across Eryndor, their cursed sigils burn with vengeance.
The siblings' sigils burned, triggering a shared memory of their exile. They stood in a circular chamber of polished obsidian, its walls etched with glowing runes that pulsed like dying stars. At the center loomed the Divine Throne, a towering monolith of gold and crystal, where Eryndralia, Supreme of the Supreme, sat shrouded in silk cloth that veiled half her face, revealing only a single, icy blue eye that gleamed with cold disdain. Her silver hair cascaded like liquid starlight, her presence crushing, divine yet untouchable. Above, the sky churned—a vortex of crimson and black, the Shattered Veil tearing open, screaming with cosmic rage.
The Council of Eternity surrounded them in a ring: Azelar, golden hair glowing, eyes like cold suns, his white robes pristine, radiating smug order; Vyrith, raven wings spread, her sharp smile cruel, black eyes glinting like fate's threads; Klythe, storm-crowned, lightning crackling across his bronze skin, his grin feral; Seraphyne, silver-veiled, her jealous green eyes piercing, her pale hands stained with their blood. The siblings, chained, glared back, their faces twisted with fury.
Kain's amber eyes locked on Azelar, pupils dilated with rage, his black hair with crimson streaks matted with sweat, muscular build tense. "Why, you godly cunts?" he roared, voice breaking. "What the fuck have we done to you?" Vespera's violet eyes burned at Vyrith, her raven-black hair slick with blood, athletic frame trembling with wrath. Lyric's emerald eyes danced with chaotic glee at Klythe, her blonde curls with ash-gray tips wild, petite yet curvy form defiant. Zynia's hazel eyes flared at Vyrith, her red hair singed, sturdy build poised to strike. Isolde's blue eyes, trembling with envy, fixed on Seraphyne, her silver hair flowing, slender frame rigid. Sablon's emerald eyes smoldered at Klythe, his dark hair tousled, lean and sculpted body exuding defiance.
Eryndralia ignored them, waving a hand adorned with celestial rings. "End them," she intoned, her voice like a glacier cracking. The Council raised the Aetherbane Blade, a legendary god-killing sword—black metal forged in the void, its blade etched with runes that glowed blood-red, its hilt wrapped in divine sinew, radiating a bloodthirsty aura that could slay immortals in a heartbeat. As the siblings awaited their promised ascension to greater power, the blades struck.
Kain lunged at Azelar, pride blazing, but Klythe intercepted, slamming a boot into Kain's chest, driving the Aetherbane deeper into his scarred, muscular frame. Blood splattered across the obsidian floor, crimson arcs spraying from his pierced chest. Vespera's throat was slashed, blood gushing like a fountain from her olive-skinned neck. Lyric's heart was stabbed, crimson spurting as she laughed maniacally, her pale skin stained. Zynia's gut was torn, blood pooling beneath her freckled form. Isolde's back snapped, crimson streaming down her porcelain spine. Sablon's ribs shattered, blood painting his bronze chest. Their screams echoed, drowned by the Veilshatter Ritual.
Azelar chanted, runes flaring. Vyrith wove fate's threads, her wings pulsing. Klythe poured lightning into the altar, Seraphyne spilling their blood. The ritual—a forbidden blend of celestial runes and blood magic—formed a glowing cage. "For your defiance, you are erased!" Azelar roared. Their bodies dissolved into shimmering light, torn from the heavens, disappearing into thin air as the Shattered Veil cracked, hurling them into Eryndor to rot.
The memory faded, and they awoke, scattered across Eryndor—a world of jagged peaks, cursed forests, and demonic beasts, its crimson sky pulsing like a wound. Each sibling emerged in a different environment, their godly forms reborn at varied ages, sigils burning, shocked by their new reality.
Kain, now 10 years old, sprawled on a marble balcony in the royal palace of Ashenreach, a gilded city where lava rivers reflected divine spite. His tall, muscular frame for his age, black hair streaked with crimson, was scarred, his spiked-crown sigil pulsing red on his chest. His amber eyes widened in shock, lips curling in a snarl. "Fuck me, I'm a prince in this shithole?" He pushed up, muscles straining under a torn royal tunic, his expression a mix of fury and disbelief, the scent of incense choking his tanned lungs. Those godly cunts will pay. His pride burned—I'll find them, and we'll gut Azelar.
Vespera, also 10, lay on a war council table in the fortified keep of Bloodspire, thorns of a nearby swamp tearing her olive skin. Her raven-black hair, once lustrous, was matted with blood, her jagged-star sigil glowing on her wrist. Her violet eyes blazed, face twisted in a wrathful scowl. "Those divine bastards think they're done with me?" She staggered up, fists clenched, her athletic frame tense in a blood-streaked leather vest, her expression pure hate. I'll burn Vyrith's throne. The war room's metallic stench fueled her rage, her siblings' presence a distant call.
Lyric, reborn as a baby, sprawled in a muddy slum of Wraithshade, a haunted village where ghost-lights danced. Her petite yet curvy frame, blonde curls with ash-gray tips tangled, shimmered with chaotic energy, her serpent sigil glowing on her thigh, barely covered by tattered rags. Her emerald eyes sparkled with manic glee, lips parted in a shocked gurgle. "Holy fuck, this place is insane!" she seemed to cry, rolling to her side in a crib of filth, her pale skin streaked with mud, her expression daring Eryndor to break her. Klythe's gonna scream when I find the others.
Zynia, now 5, lay in a battlefield trench of Ironfall, a desert of rusted blades and skeletal remains. Her sturdy build, red hair singed at the ends, bore scars, her flame sigil scorching her forearm. Her hazel eyes flared, face a mask of defiance as she spat blood. "Fucking Eryndor? I'll torch this bitch!" She pushed up, boots crunching metal, her freckled skin smeared with grime, her expression unyielding in a tattered jacket. Vyrith's ashes are mine. Her siblings' presence tugged at her young heart.
Isolde, also a baby, awoke in a cursed village square of Crystalhollow, a cavern of glowing shards reflecting her pale, ethereal beauty. Her silver hair flowed, her spiral sigil pulsing on her neck. Her blue eyes widened in shock, lips trembling with envy as she wailed. "They took everything…" she seemed to whimper, rising awkwardly in a cradle of thorns, her slender frame wrapped in a torn delicate robe, her porcelain skin pristine yet marked, her expression haunted yet resolute. Seraphyne will suffer. The cavern's beauty mocked her, but her siblings called.
Sablon, now 5, lay in a merchant's tent in the Velvet Quarter, a decayed city of silk-draped spires and moaning winds. His lean, sculpted frame, dark hair tousled, glistened with sweat, his crescent-moon sigil glowing on his bronze chest. His emerald eyes glinted with shock and desire, lips curling in a seductive smirk. "Fuck, this place is begging for me." He stood, fluid and confident, his silk shirt clinging to his chiseled torso, his expression hungry in a child's entertainer garb. They'll kneel to me. His siblings' presence stirred him.
A crimson light erupted, bathing each in a blood-red glow. The system's voice boomed, anime-style:
"Kain, Scion of Pride, welcome to Eryndor! Vespera, Scion of Wrath, embrace your sin! Lyric, Scion of Chaos, conquer the trials! Zynia, Scion of Fury, ignite your power! Isolde, Scion of Envy, seize your fate! Sablon, Scion of Lust, claim your dominion! Your sins are your strength. Access your status to survive!"
Kain's vision flashed, a translucent screen appearing:
Name: Kain, Scion of Pride
Power: Pride's Dominion (enhances strength, commands authority)
Trial: Slay the Ashen Behemoth or perish.
"Fuck yeah, I'm the king here," he snarled, his expression defiant as the screen flickered, pride surging.
Vespera's screen showed:
Name: Vespera, Scion of Wrath
Power: Wrath's Inferno (summons divine flames)
Trial: Conquer the Bloodfen Titan.
"Burn it all," she growled, her scowl deepening, flames sparking as the screen glowed.
Lyric's screen:
Name: Lyric, Scion of Chaos
Power: Chaos Weave (manipulates reality, summons daggers)
Trial: Outwit the Wraithwood's Phantom.
"Fuck shit up!" she giggled, her grin wild, eyes sparkling at the system's call.
Zynia's screen:
Name: Zynia, Scion of Fury
Power: Fury's Blaze (explosive fire attacks)
Trial: Destroy the Iron Desolation's Golem.
"Time to torch this bitch," she spat, her expression fierce, the screen's light fueling her fury.
Isolde's screen:
Name: Isolde, Scion of Envy
Power: Envy's Shadow (steals abilities, manipulates shadows)
Trial: Escape the Crystaline Abyss's Guardian.
"They'll pay," she whispered, her haunted eyes narrowing as the screen pulsed.
Sablon's screen:
Name: Sablon, Scion of Lust
Power: Lust's Allure (charms enemies, summons energy whips)
Trial: Seduce or slay the Velvet Ruins' Siren.
"Gonna make this world scream," he purred, his smirk widening, the screen's glow stoking his desire.
The system continued: "Eryndor is a realm of jagged peaks, cursed forests, and demonic beasts. Your sigils amplify your sins but tempt betrayal. Find your siblings, conquer the trials, or die. System disengaged." The crimson light faded, screens vanishing, leaving them alone.
Their vows burned brighter. I vow to rip Azelar's throat out, Kain thought, pride surging. Vyrith's throne will be ash, Zynia hissed. Klythe will beg on his knees, Lyric laughed. Seraphyne's blood is mine, Vespera swore. They'll kneel to me, Sablon purred. They'll suffer for eternity, Isolde whispered.
They stepped into Eryndor, revenge driving them to find each other, the Veilshatter Ritual's echo fueling their hate.
(End of Chapter 1)
✍️ Author's Note
Welcome to Heirs of the Hollow Star — a brutal tale of betrayal, sin, vengeance, and rebirth. This is not your typical "chosen one" story. These siblings were gods once… and now? They're broken, scattered, and pissed off.
Each of them will face twisted trials, unholy temptations, and a world that wants them dead. But the gods made one mistake… they let them live.
If you made it this far — thank you. Seriously.
💬 Let me know which sibling caught your attention first.
🔥 Who do you think will survive their trial? Who'll break?
👑 And what's your favorite sin?
New chapters are coming soon — and it only gets bloodier from here.
— par, the chaos architect 👁🗨