Dracarys Marcos

I am Dracarys Marcos. The world sees a warrior draped in crimson, a prince forged by war and crowned by victory. They see the broad shoulders, the scars earned beneath forgotten suns, the golden bow resting in my hand like an extension of my soul. They see strength. What they do not see is the fire. It burns beneath my skin, ancient and relentless, whispering the names of kings long dead and destinies yet unwritten. Every heartbeat carries the weight of a prophecy older than empires. Every breath feels borrowed from the gods themselves. The marble city stretches below me, bathed in the dying glow of sunset. Its people cheer my name from gilded balconies. Children dream of becoming me. Soldiers swear loyalty to me. Enemies pray they never face me. Yet none of them know the truth. The battlefield has never frightened me. Not the clash of steel. Not the rain of arrows. Not even death. What terrifies me is the future I keep seeing in my dreams. A pair of unfamiliar eyes. A touch that feels like fate. A woman standing amidst fire and ruin while the world crumbles around us. I have crossed kingdoms searching for answers. I have hunted monsters, broken armies, and survived wars that should have claimed my life. Still, her face follows me through every victory and every sleepless night. The gods call it destiny. I call it a curse. Because deep within my soul, I already know the choice awaiting me. One day, I will have to choose between the empire I swore to protect... and the woman my heart was destined to love. When that day comes, kingdoms will burn. And for the first time in my life, neither my strength nor my arrows will be enough to save me. I am Dracarys Marcos. The Crimson Archer. The Flame of Aurelius. And fate is coming for me.

Updated September 3, 2026