(Part III – The Celestial Gowns)The Gathering of RealmsThe year of the twin weddings arrived with omens of calm skies and twin moons. Every realm, the seas of Civax, the fires of Shill, even the high mirrors of Kovu, sent emissaries to Cellok. The Tree Goddess herself had blessed the unions: Bright Wrought to the lord of Kiria’s house, Bright Wrath to the demigod Shiwa of Shine.Word of Kiria’s old vision still lingered like a half-remembered song, and some gods watched the preparations with uneasy fascination. Could these brides be the beginning of what he saw?Evilside only smiled. “Let the lilies bloom,” she said. “What is planted in light cannot hide forever.”Arrival of the GownsOn the eve of the ceremony, a soft wind swept through the valley. From its heart emerged Moon, the first priestess, mother of Blood, great-grandmother of the brides. She came bearing two chests of lightwood wrapped in silver thread.“These were sewn not by hands alone,” she said, opening the lids, “but

The Morning AfterDawn broke over Cellok in a hush of pale gold. The lilies still glowed faintly from the night’s blessings, their petals heavy with dew and memory. The valley smelled of incense and new beginnings.The feast fires had gone out, leaving the air warm with peace. The guests, gods, mortals, and shadows alike, had begun to depart. Only the newlyweds and their kin remained beneath the vast tree that crowned the valley.Bright Wrought sat quietly beside her cousin, their gowns spread like pools of light and flame across the grass. For the first time in years, there was no ceremony, no demand, only the stillness after purpose fulfilled.Bright Wrath’s ChoiceWhen the silence stretched, Bright Wrath spoke first. “I will not leave,” she said simply. “Shiwa returns to Shine tomorrow, but my heart tells me to stay. The lilies have called my name too long for me to turn away.”Hate looked at her daughter in surprise. “Stay? Why?”“To learn what I am,” Wrath said. “To train as thos

The Council of the AcademyThe bells of Cellok rang twelve times, each note drawn from silver wind.From every guild, from every isle, the Liroids gathered. The Academy stood at the center of the valley like a dark heart pulsing with moonlight. Its spires were carved with lilies and constellations; its gates were guarded by statues of the first ancestors, Heartless, Darkside, and Death, each wreathed in shadow and flame.At the apex of the marble dais stood Heartless, first Headmistress of the Liroid Academy, daughter of Evilside herself, heir to both grief and sorrow. Her eyes glimmered like the horizon before a storm, her robes stitched with silver runes of obedience and balance.Behind her loomed the carved effigy of Evilside, the Tree Goddess, her arms outstretched in eternal watch. The air trembled with sanctity. To speak beneath her likeness was to have every word weighed by divine will.The Dispute of the Divine LineAt Heartless’s right stood Flavor Liroid, the radiant lord of

The Day of the Moon VowsThe city of Cellok shimmered beneath twin moons, their light turning the marble streets to rivers of silver.Every temple bell tolled softly, calling the faithful to witness another Liroid wedding.The lilies along the avenue had opened early, their scent thick with promise.And from every hall, priests murmured the name of the bride,Nonia Liroid, granddaughter of the famed Avalanche Liroid, second head of the healers, daughter of Puma, heir to two of the most powerful bloodlines of her age.Her groom waited beneath the sacred tree, handsome, devout, mortal.His Tar mark already burned faintly upon his palm, sealing him to her fate.The Shadow of the LawNonia stood in her bridal chamber, draped in silk the color of midnight snow.Her gown was a gift from the Academy itself, stitched with stars, woven with threads of moonlight.Yet her heart beat not with joy, but with dread.On the wall before her hung the Twenty-five Laws of the Tar, engraved upon obsidian

The Golden Years of WaitingTime in Dendra’s realm did not pass; it bloomed.Days unfurled like petals and folded again into eternity.What mortals counted as years, the gods called moments, and yet each one carried the weight of forever.Here, beneath skies that shimmered in endless dawn, Nonia Liroid learned what it meant to breathe without fear.Dendra’s court was unlike any place in the Liroid world, a palace of light built upon clouds that never wept, where the walls themselves whispered poetry and the gardens changed with the moods of their keeper.Every path sang softly underfoot, and rivers of liquid gold flowed between forests of crystal trees.In this place of living beauty, Nonia’s heart began to mend.The Lessons of DeliaIn those first quiet years, Delia, Dendra’s mother-in-law and the once-favored wife of Tan, took Nonia under her wing.Delia was both gentle and formidable; her smile could soothe tempests, but her words could bend even gods to listen.“You’ve spent your