Thank you for being here — for reading, subscribing, and stepping back into the world of The Storyteller Chronicles. When I finished Book One, I truly thought the story was done. Silas was defeated. The grimoire was safe. Lauren had saved the day — in two worlds — and her family were reunited.

But as I thought more about the story, I realized there was still so much left to explore. Questions that wouldn’t let me rest:

Understanding Silas’s past might just change how you see everything that came before.

This unedited prologue from The Storyteller’s Curse is my first step toward answering those questions. It’s a raw, early glimpse at Silas’s beginnings — and I’m thrilled to share it exclusively with you, my Vocal+ subscribers.

Your support means the world to me. I’d love to hear your thoughts and theories — feel free to leave a comment below!

The Storyteller’s Curse: Silas’s Beginning

Every story has a beginning… even this one.

The grimoire had been written in a time long forgotten by any living human, but its author was lost to time itself. Her name and origins had always changed throughout history depending on the myths and legends that had surrounded her at the time. No, only the Storytellers destined to protect the ancient book understood a fraction of the book’s powers.

Yet, few knew who the author of the grimoire was, the mysterious book that held every story imaginable within its enchanted pages except hers.

She was the keeper of stories, a scribe whose very name echoed through the ancient halls of time, carrying with it the weight of countless tales passed down through generations.

For centuries, Saga had written stories, myths and legends within the pages of this book. They came to her mind as they occurred in the other realms. Her mission was to write these stories as they happened, never to interfere or rewrite the fates of others.

However, fate had other ideas. Blessed with twins, Saga had to choose who’d inherit the responsibilities that came with being The First Storyteller. For you see, she knew her story was soon to reach its conclusion. However, both children had inherited her gifts for witchcraft and after her husband was accused of witchcraft, his death had caused the family to flee into exile.

Yet while her son studied his craft with a terrifying obsession, her daughter craved nothing more than to find love and happiness.

Saga assured herself that she’d have a lifetime to choose who to gift the grimoire too, but time was not on her side.

In her old age, the mere process of writing down yet another tale brought her great pain in. Tiredness lingered over her like a cloak that weighed heavily as the days bled into nights. However, she would never neglect her duty. 

“Mother,” her son protested again as the quill slipped from her trembling fingers. Ink seeped into the parchment, but her son murmured an incantation under his breath, and the black liquid seeped away and left the page fresh and clean. In truth, sometimes it scared Saga how easily magic came to him. “You must rest. I believe now is the time to choose another author.”

Saga turned to face her son, her eyes wide as if seeing him for the first time. In the darkness of her study, the candle flame that flickered on her desk was her only source of light.

“What do you mean, Silas?” Saga demanded and she was convinced that she saw a flash of crimson in her son’s eyes. “Neither you nor your sister would become the author. Our duty is to chronicle these tales, not write them ourselves!”

Silas hovered over the elderly woman, his concern a clear mask for what he truly wanted. It was in arms reach, but he kept his expression calm and ignored the itch he had to seize the book out of his mother’s withered old hands.

Before he was the monster trapped in an attic, Silas was once human. Well, a warlock. Many would call him handsome, but there was a darkness that clawed itself around his ugly heart. For his whole life, he had desired one thing.

With his mother growing weaker by the day and his sister only having eyes for the human boy that had captured her heart, Silas knew all he had to do was wait. 

Alas, his patience was thinning the longer his mother clung to life.

“But Mother,” Silas said, a unnerving longing in his voice as his eyes drank in the book’s pages. “Have you never been tempted to—”

“Not. Once!” Saga said so strongly, Silas actually flinched away from her. “Not a single time. Do you not understand the dangers of using such magic?”

“I have read every text that there is to know on such magic at this,” Silas hissed, almost sounding like the feral beast he would become in another’s story. “I understand more than you think, Mother!”

“And yet you have not learned a thing!” Saga said, each word laced with anger and a deeper pain she could not name. She was seeing her child in a new light. No… she could finally see the man he had become.

“I know more than Janet!” Silas spat and before Saga could stop him, he seized the grimoire from Saga with such force, she tumbled out of her chair and hit the stone floor with a painful thud. He barely noticed as he paced the room, skimming the pages of the sacred book. “I suppose you were going to choose her as your successor? Your heir?”

“No…” Saga gasped, unable to stop the tears spilling from her eyes and over her fragile cheeks. “I told you. No one should have such power, especially not you!”

“You fear magic! You always have, ever since father died!” 

“Because magic brings both light and dark,” Saga gasped. Ignoring the pain from her fall, she pulled herself to her feet and stood at her fullest height. “Knowledge is power, but magic does not lie! It sees into your heart, and that, my child, is why I would never trust you with this book!”

“You’re only jealous of my power!” Silas spat, pausing as he stared down at the pages of the ancient book as if realising something for the first time. “What is this, Mother? What have you done?”

“You are not the Storyteller, Silas,” Saga said through gritted teeth. “Only they can read others’ tales.”

Silas looked down at the unfamiliar words written in his mother’s distinctive handwriting, struggling to comprehend their meaning. He was so distracted, he barely noticed her grab the quill which was as black as night.

“Let me read it,” Silas demanded. His anger grew stronger as he flicked through the pages in a rage. Each page was written in the same mysterious language he had never encountered. “Allow me to prove myself.”

Saga paused, almost as if she was genuinely considering his request. In her heart of hearts, she wanted to believe her son. Yet, she saw a darkness inside him that she wished she could ignore. She did not know whether this thirst for power had been born from his father’s death or if it had always been there, waiting. 

Guilt threatened to consume her sorrow as she stared at the boy who’d become a stranger to her. Perhaps she never truly knew her child at all.

“Then you leave me no choice, Mother,” Silas sighed.

With a flick of his wrist, the quill was wrenched from his mother’s hand and soared into his waiting palm.

“Don’t!” Saga pleaded, but the moment the tip of the quill touched the parchment, she knew it was too late.

Ink spilled from the quill. No, it bled from within like a damn had broken through a river. The black substance consumed the grimoire that Silas dropped in horror. The quill melted into the pages. Silas was too horrified to speak as he watched the book sink into the stone floor. Before he could round on his mother, a searing pain shot through his head, and he doubled over. He caught sight of his trembling fingers which were aging before his eyes. Magic crackled through the air with such intensity, it took him a moment to realise Saga was the caster.

“Author, I call thee,” Saga chanted as Silas collapsed, and she wept at seeing her son transforming before her eyes. “I shield the Grimiore from hearts of greed. Expose the wicked and banish—”

An inhuman roar escaped from Silas. He dug his nails into the stone slab, leaving deep groove in the stone. They were claws. He was shrinking before her eyes. He glared up at her, his irises now as crimson as blood. Saga continued to sob, but pushed through the spell.

“Banish him to roam as a beast — forever unredeemed. So mote it be!”

Light flowed from her outstretched palms as the creature that was once her beloved child lunged at her, his claws reaching for her throat. Saga stood perfectly still and closed her eyes, braced for the end.

She opened her eyes and realised that she was alone. Silas was gone and her study was once again still and silent. Was she relieved? No. Instead, she felt as if her heart had shattered into a million pieces, never to be whole again. That was the first time she had broken her own vow to never cast a spell and it was for this. Overcome with her own sobs, she wept and collapsed onto the floor, her grief echoed around the chamber, but no one came to her comfort.

“Forgive me,” Saga sobbed repeatedly, but it was not Silas she was begging forgiveness from. It was to the poor Storyteller who was destined to do the task that she was too weak to do herself.

Of all the stories she had written, she could never have written one that would bring the end of her only son. But at what cost? She was almost relieved that the grimoire was gone. Then, at least she could not read what was destined to happen.

As she opened her eyes and wiped away the tears, she saw it: ink dancing over the stone slab on which the book had sunk only minutes earlier. An invisible force was writing one word over and over again.

The Author Diaries #1: The Storyteller’s Curse — Exclusive Prologue Reveal

Uncover the Origins of a Villain in this Exclusive Vocal+ Preview

Author’s Note:

Dear Readers,

Thank you for being here — for reading, subscribing, and stepping back into the world of The Storyteller Chronicles. When I finished Book One, I truly thought the story was done. Silas was defeated. The grimoire was safe. Lauren had saved the day — in two worlds — and her family were reunited.



The Author Diaries #1: The Storyteller’s Curse — Exclusive Prologue Reveal

Uncover the Origins of a Villain in this Exclusive Vocal+ Preview

This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of Ted Ryan

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Ted Ryan

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Echoes in the Living Room

The Author Diaries #1: The Storyteller’s Curse — Exclusive Prologue Reveal

Uncover the Origins of a Villain in this Exclusive Vocal+ Preview

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About the Creator

Ted Ryan

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Keep reading

Echoes in the Living Room

This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of Ted Ryan