Lightning licked across the high towers of the Liroid Academy, casting crooked veins of light along walls grown from living stone. Glyphs pulsed faintly under the floor, each a root of Cellok’s power. Heartless’s domain breathed like a beast asleep, beautiful, dangerous, full of old voices.Snake walked those halls as if they were memories. The students bowed or fled from his path; none spoke his name aloud. His shadow moved faster than his feet, long and serpentine. He was not supposed to be here, yet the guards dared not question him. When the goddess herself allowed a man to enter, only fools intervened.He reached the western courtyard, where the rain poured through a broken roof onto a pool of black lilies. There, lounging upon the edge as if the place were a tavern and not a fortress, sat Sky, hair pale as ash, eyes the color of storms, a grin that promised mischief even in silence.“You’re late,” Sky said, tossing a pebble into the pool. It skipped twice before sinking. “I was

The Veil shimmered with a light that was neither holy nor kind. Clouds of gold and crimson folded like silk upon endless air, and the voices of the gods rose in slow, echoing judgment.Dar knelt in the center of that celestial hall. His golden armor was cracked from the battle below, his pride dimmer than the fires that once crowned him. Around him, the gathered deities watched in silence, faces carved of beauty and wrath, their eyes cold as suns.And before him stood his mother, Day, goddess of love, mercy, beauty, and endless desire.Her radiance filled the Veil like music, terrible in its gentleness, destructive in its grace. Her skin glowed the color of dawn; her eyes, soft as mourning stars. Yet there was no warmth in them tonight, only disappointment.“Rise, my son,” she said, her voice breaking like glass.Dar obeyed, trembling. He dared not meet her gaze.“You were sent to test them,” she whispered. “Not to destroy what little hope remained in their hearts. You turned a lesson

The night at the Liroid Academy throbbed with whispers.A thousand dark lilies bloomed along the courtyard walls, petals trembling with the breath of approaching rain. It was the eve of the Ascension Trials, the day when each young Liroid would face the will of their lineage, the weight of their blood.Yet beneath the ceremonial calm, emotions stirred hotter than any curse.The Courtyard of ShadowsSap stood under the statue of Evilside, his pale fingers clenched around the chain at his neck. The moon caught in his silver hair, and his voice was rough when he finally spoke.“I can’t lie anymore.”Death sentence turned, the glow of her crimson eyes catching his. She had inherited her mother Dark’s poise and her father Beroot’s wrath, a queen in the making, carved of power and patience. “What is it you can’t lie about, Sap?”He swallowed hard, then looked straight into her eyes. “You. I love you.”The words fell like a weapon loosed.Silence expanded between them, soft as snowfall, heav

The morning light over Doomsany Academy was tinted silver, caught in the mist that rose from Cellok’s veins. The black towers of the Liroid citadel shimmered faintly, and banners of shadow fluttered like ghosts in the wind. Within its grand hall, every student had gathered, children of power and prophecy, heirs of sin and fate.They whispered amongst themselves until silence descended like frost. The doors opened, and High Priestess Xylem entered.She was tall, her robe woven from ivy and starlight, her eyes a deep brown like the depths of the first deserts. A faint aura of rootlight surrounded her, and behind her trailed the scent of wet earth after rain. Her voice, when she spoke, rippled through the hall like wind through ancient leaves.“Children of the Liroid Goddess,” she began, “you have been taught the histories of Liroids, the wars of Tan, and the chains of Evilside. But today, I bring you a truth even your goddess does not speak of often, the tale of the Forgotten God.”Whis

The Veil was quiet that evening, suspended between light and shadow. A river of stars flowed through its endless horizon, its waters made of memory. It was here, where silence spoke louder than prayer, that Radia waited.Her crimson hair glowed faintly, as though lit by an unseen fire. She stood among the white willows that lined the banks of the Celestial Stream, her reflection rippling across the surface like a half-forgotten dream. When Kiria, god of solitude, approached, even the air seemed to draw back in reverence.He was tall, pale, his silver robes trailing through mist that never touched his skin. His eyes, blue, endless, calm, carried both serenity and an ache he never named.“You asked for me,” he said softly, his voice a mirror of still water.Radia turned to him, her expression unreadable. “I needed someone who remembers without judgment. Someone who knows silence the way Linx once did.”Kiria’s brow lifted slightly. “Linx…” He spoke her name like a prayer. “It has been c