The Hall of Feathers glimmered with light. Its tall marble pillars, etched with stories of triumph, flame, and faith, stretched into a sky painted gold. Yet, beneath that glory, tension brewed like a storm beneath glass.Tan of Tan, the Crane God, ruler of Mogro and flame incarnate, stood before his mirror of judgment. His reflection shimmered: pale skin glowing with fire beneath, feathers of light cascading from his shoulders like broken wings. His eyes, bright as suns, betrayed neither regret nor humility. Only fury, veiled by poise.“Face,” he muttered. “That is what they want me to save.”Behind him, the god Branch of Obedience stood tall and solemn, his robe of woven thorns whispering against the marble floor. His voice was calm, too calm. “You embarrassed yourself before the Veil, Tan. You let Dendra mock you, you allowed Evilside’s shadow to rise again, and you let Cirax speak unchallenged. You need to restore balance before the next gathering.”Tan turned, his expression dark.

The following morning, the golden halls of Delia’s palace shimmered beneath the light of dawn. The air smelled faintly of honeyed wine and the sea, yet within the throne room, the mood was anything but light.Aria stood before her mother, her armor dulled and her face clouded with anger. Dendra lounged nearby, reclining upside down on a marble column, his radiant hair falling over his mischievous grin.“I cannot believe what happened last night,” Aria burst out. “They murdered a priest of Tan right in front of me! And that one…Snake…he…” she trailed off, her voice breaking.Dendra laughed softly, flipping upright with a grace that mocked gravity. “Ah, so it’s Snake now, not ‘the assassin’ or ‘the servant of Evilside.’ You even say his name like a sigh, little flame.”Aria’s cheeks flushed crimson. “I do not fancy him!”Delia hid a smile behind her hand. “That’s what I said too, when I first met your father.”Dendra barked out a laugh. “And look how that turned out! You became number e

Tan entered his grand harem, the air heavy with perfume and murmured laughter. Silk veils drifted like mist through the golden chamber, and more than two hundred jeweled eyes turned toward him at once. Every wife and concubine sought his gaze, hoping to be chosen for even a moment’s affection. The Crane god of the Mogro Kingdom, lord of light and dominion, strode through them without pause, his presence a storm of restrained fury.He ignored the fluttering hands and whispered pleas until his eyes fell upon Aliya, the 158th of his two hundred wives. Her beauty was gentle, her dark hair coiled like midnight silk. When he motioned for her, she gasped and rose, joy blooming across her face. Around her, jealousy rippled like heat, envy burning in every rival’s eyes. She followed him, heart pounding, believing she had captured his attention at last.He led her into a private chamber, closing the door behind them. The silence that fell was sharp, almost holy. Aliya smiled, her voice tremblin

The city of Doomsany gleamed beneath the full moon like a jewel carved from night itself. Towers of black marble rose against a violet sky, their windows burning with candlelight that flickered like watchful eyes. The streets were lined with lilies from Evilside’s sacred tree, blossoms that glowed faintly, their petals veined with darkness and silver.It was a Liroid wedding night.And all of Cellok held its breath.From the east gate came the guests, cloaked figures, veiled in shades of dusk and smoke. Every Liroid, from the youngest shadow-born to the eldest assassin, attended such ceremonies. To witness a Liroid union was to honor the bloodline itself, to affirm their devotion to Evilside, and to remember that no Liroid love came without its cost.Snake arrived beneath a cloak of silence, his hood drawn low, his steps careful. Dragon walked beside him, broad-shouldered and amused.“Running from ghosts again?” Dragon murmured, his voice deep with laughter.“Not ghosts,” Snake mutter

The moon had climbed high above Doomsany, silver and vast, a mirror to every sorrow it illuminated. The streets slept beneath veils of mist; torches flickered like dying stars.Snake walked alone again. His sisters had returned to their chambers, leaving him to his thoughts, a solitude he neither feared nor cherished. The air was cool, the silence thick, until the sound of lilies shifting broke the stillness.From the shadows of the courtyard, Evilside emerged.Her presence was not heralded by trumpets or light. It was quieter, heavier. The night seemed to kneel before her. The lilies growing from the cracks in the stone pulsed faintly with silver and violet glow, the scent of death and beauty mingling in the air.“Still awake, my serpent?” she said, her voice soft and cold as running water.Snake bowed his head but did not kneel. “I could ask the same of you, Mother of Darkness.”A ghost of a smile curved her lips. “I do not sleep. Not since the day Ciria’s blood stained the roots of