Iswa arrived quietly, without banners or announcement, the way love often does when it knows it may not be welcomed.For the first two days, she watched her mother.Felt still rose before dawn. Still ruled with meticulous grace. Still spoke gently to servants and scribes alike. But there were absences, small things a daughter noticed because she had grown up inside them.Her mother no longer corrected Tan’s excesses.She no longer softened decrees after his rages.She no longer waited.When Tan passed her in the corridors, Felt inclined her head with flawless courtesy, and nothing more. No lingering glance. No tension. No fear.It unsettled Iswa more than any shouting ever could.“This isn’t you,” Iswa finally said one evening as they shared tea in the study. “You used to fight storms with bare hands.”Felt smiled faintly. “And I grew tired of bleeding.”The summons came three days later.A scroll, already approved, sealed, and dispatched to court, had been questioned. Tan demanded he

Dark was the one who came for him.Snake noticed her smile first, quiet, genuine, as she moved through the bustling temple grounds like any other woman of Doomsany. Here, royals walked unguarded. Who would dare harm a Liroid? And who would be foolish enough to try Dark?Someone had.They had been caught within the hour.By Dark’s own decree, the traitors, outsiders who thought Doomsany soft, were sentenced to blood eagle and flaying. A brutal end, but a swift one by Liroid standards. It was said often that if death must come, pray it comes by Dark’s hand and not Evilside’s, dark ended lives. Evilside unmade them.Snake said nothing when he heard. He did not need to. This was his sister. She had taken revenge for him.She took his hand, and together they walked through the city.They spoke of nothing important, and everything that mattered. Old memories. Small grievances. Laughter that came easily. In the marketplace, voices quieted just enough to notice them, heads bowing lightly, smi

Morning broke over Doomsany with the sound of bells, soft, layered chimes tied into the roots and archways of the city. Glass’s birthday was not marked with pomp at first, but with movement.Children arriving.The academy gates opened before noon.Lake came first, tall for his age, already wearing his calm like armor. Mist followed, her eyes everywhere at once, fingers brushing walls as if listening to the city breathe. Echo ran ahead of them both, laughing, nearly colliding with a market cart before Core caught her by the back of her tunic with a practiced sigh.“You are going to get us executed one day,” Core muttered.“That’s later,” Echo said cheerfully.Behind them walked Drought and Deathsentence, unmistakable even out of uniform. Drought carried himself with quiet gravity, already weighed by expectations. Deathsentence smiled too easily, eyes sharp, absorbing every detail like a weapon catalog.Then came Passion.And Sky.Sky looked like a man marching to execution.“I want it

Doom watched from the edge of the celebration.She stood where the lantern light thinned, and the music softened, where laughter reached her a breath later than everyone else. Her grandchildren ran freely, weaving between tables and guests, their Liroid blood mixing easily with that of allied houses and old friends. Drought laughed with Lake. Deathsentence debated the rules of a game with Echo as if it were a matter of law. Mist danced barefoot. Core watched everything, sharp-eyed and already calculating.They were whole.She was not.Doom did not let it show.She straightened her back, smoothed her sleeves, and approached Glass with the dignity that had broken nations.“Happy birthday,” Doom said, voice even, formal. “You have built a good life.”Glass smiled, warm, genuine, but she did not step away from Pattern’s side. “Thank you, Mother.”That was all.Doom nodded once, then turned, already preparing to leave.A hand caught hers.Not firm. Not demanding.Just… there.Snake.He did

And so, on the fourth night, the celebration finally loosened its grip on the city.One by one, torches were extinguished. Music faded into soft murmurs. Horses were brought out, packs tightened, and children lifted half-asleep into saddles or arms. The City of the Root exhaled, satisfied and full.Trina stood a little apart, her hand pressed lightly to her chest.Snake noticed immediately. Evilside and her perfect timing.“The barrier,” she said quietly before he could ask. “It’s closing.”He nodded. Evilside had never been cruel with her mercy, but she was exact. Trina had one day, no more. Another sunrise away from Kindraloy would burn through her lungs and veins alike.Rage was already mounted, watching the road with narrowed eyes. For once, even she did not argue.Snake turned to Dark and placed the final stack of sealed scrolls into her hands: court cases, border disputes, trade approvals, and punishments yet to be carried out.“I’ve written my judgments,” he said. “If anything