King Filleon Jura's daughter and only heir is dying. For seventeen long years, the echoes of her blood-curdling coughs have reverberated through the kingdom, not only draining its coffers but also etching the lines of anguish upon the king's visage and deep into the recesses of his mind.. Not a single holy act to heal the very soul from any priest nor alchemic transfusion from the uppermost echelon of science can stop it.  Amidst the turmoil, a burgeoning discontent simmers within the ranks of the nobles and their factions. Whispers of dissatisfaction grow louder, fueled by the sight of a once-vigilant king descending into the depths of madness, all while the kingdom's wealth is squandered on futile remedies. Back against the wall with threats to his life, a single lead to follow, and a coupe on the rise, Filleon feels he must do the one thing he must not as King ... leave. But who is this figure that claims to be his salvation? And at what cost? Story updates every Mon/Wed/Fri. Other tangential titles to the story can be found in my vault as well as my monthly newsletter. Please look forward to it.