Kindraloy slept beneath a velvet sky, its moon silver and distant, a single watchful eye over the restless land. The party had long ended, the laughter turned to whispers, and even the crickets dared not break the silence that hung over Snake’s estate.Down by the lake beyond the courtyard walls, two figures sat in the stillness, shadows mirrored by the water. Snake and Dragon. Brothers not by blood, but by scars.Dragon’s reflection trembled in the ripples. His hands were still clenched, jaw tight, the anger of hours past refusing to die.Snake tossed a small stone into the lake, watching the rings fade away. “You’ll break your teeth grinding them like that.”Dragon exhaled sharply. “You think it’s that easy? You didn’t see her face, Snake. Linx… she died for nothing. And he…”He stopped, his voice cracking under the weight of her name. “He sold her out like she was a pawn on a board.”Snake’s gaze stayed on the water. “You think I didn’t see faces like that? I’ve seen too many. And

The fire burned low in the hearth, its embers breathing faintly like a dying heart. The air was warm, golden, but heavy, thick with the weight of centuries unspoken.Rage sat before the fire, her crimson hair spilling down her back like bloodied silk. When Dragon entered, the sound of his footsteps made her shoulders tense. For a long while, neither spoke.Then, in a voice trembling yet fierce, Rage broke the silence.“I remember how I fell in love with you,” she said quietly.Dragon froze. He hadn’t expected that.“I was seventy,” she continued, “barely grown. You were already a legend, a two-hundred-year-old, a husband, a father, a storm the world feared.” Her eyes shone in the firelight, soft yet pained. “I remember when you and Linx brought your newborn, Passion, to the temple of Evilside, for the ceremony of the lilies’ sap. I thought your red hair matched hers perfectly. A Cirax rad head with a Liroid… a tale written for chaos.”A faint smile ghosted her lips. “My brother Chaos,

The road to the Liroid Academy shimmered beneath morning mist, a silver path curling through whispering forests and forgotten ruins. Above them, clouds drifted like watching spirits. Below, seven figures walked in unhurried steps, their laughter cutting through the quiet like bright steel through silk.Passion walked ahead, her red hair catching the weak sun. Beside her were Fury and Flame, Dragon’s son and daughter, always bickering yet bound as flame to spark. Behind them, Deathsentence and Sap trailed lazily, while Dar, game, Sky, and Shiver closed the procession, their chatter light but full of old names and new dreams.“Finally,” Sky drawled, stretching his arms with exaggerated relief, “that fiery freak of a father of yours finally found some peace. I was beginning to think rage would eat him whole.”“Watch your tongue, Cirax,” Passion snapped, turning sharply. “He’s my father, and she, my stepmother, is worth a hundred tempests. Mind your words before I tell Evilside you mocked

The gates of Freya opened like the jaws of a slumbering beast, wide and silent. Beyond them, the city stretched out in terraces of silver and obsidian stone, glimmering beneath the faint red sun. Freya, the city of the Hunting Dogs, the sons of discipline and desire.Snake and Dragon rode beneath a great archway carved with scenes of their order’s birth, men and women cast from fire and clay, their veins bound with root and blood. At their center stood the statue of Great Center Liroid, the first Dog, his gaze raised toward the sky as though he had tamed the heavens themselves.Waiting before the statue stood Creature Liroid, assistant to Center and the third in command. His cloak shimmered with gold threads, his presence calm and regal. When he turned, his face mirrored Snake’s almost eerily, the same sharp jaw, the same quiet intensity, only his hair, dark as the abyss with yellowed tips, betrayed another lineage.“Welcome to Freya,” Creature said, bowing deeply. “It has been too lo

Freya shimmered under dusk, a city of marble and wind, its towers breathing ancient hymns of power. The banners of the Hunting Dogs rippled above, black and crimson, like the heartbeat of an empire that never slept.Through its avenues walked Dragon Liroid, his armor unfastened, his rage caged but trembling. The air followed him, heat whispering through the stones as though the world itself dared not stand in his way.He did not speak until he reached the old fountain at the city’s edge, a silent monument carved with the faces of every Liroid who had once been “chosen.” There, two figures waited as Snake had promised:Nonia Liroid, serene and still as moonlight, her dark braid glowing faintly in the wind, and beside her, the golden-eyed Snake Eyes, her poise sharp, her beauty forged of both war and devotion.“Nonia,” Dragon greeted, his voice gravel and ache. “I hope my brother warned you he sent me in a storm.”Nonia smiled faintly. “He did. That’s why I brought calm.” She touched hi