The night the wind carried Kamro to Cellok, the stars seemed to dim as if watching closely.He had come from the ruined borders of Dren, one of Dendra’s shining realms, or so he claimed.But even before he spoke, Night Liroid knew something was off.His hair was a strange weave of color; brown fading to black at the edges, not the gold or honey of those who bore Dendra’s charm.And his eyes… grass-green, alive, unblinking.No Dendran carried eyes that color.Liroids were trained to read ancestry by the smallest details: eyes, hair, the tilt of bone, and yet Kamro’s appearance bent every rule.Still, there was something disarming in him: a patience that unsettled her, and a quietness that drew her closer.So she believed him, hesitantly, as all cautious hearts eventually do.They spent days together, walking through the crumbling courtyards of Acron, beneath the fading statues of heroes and queens long forgotten.She spoke of Liroid guilds and the endless hierarchy; he listened as thou

The Temple of Evilside rose like an obsidian crown above Cellok,Its spires were veined with silver light that pulsed as if the building itself were alive.Inside, lilies from the sacred Tree lined the corridors, their faint glow breathing with each heartbeat of the divine.Night Liroid walked among the worshippers with Kamro at her side.Every priestess who looked upon him felt a flicker of unease, something in his presence that did not belong,a shadow too ancient, a stillness too deep.Yet, one by one, they dismissed the feeling, for who among them would question a Liroid’s chosen?At the heart of the temple, they met High Priestess Moon, her long dark hair cascading like a river of night,and Lady Nonia, radiant still, though the years had folded softly upon her.Nonia’s smile was gentle when she embraced Night.“Your mother wrote of your coming,” she said. “I see your eyes hold the same fire that mine once did.”They spoke softly through the morning rites,but when the hymns fade

The moment Kamro’s blood touched the lilies of Cellok,The heavens shifted.Across the veil of realms, the divine threads shivered,an ancient warning traveling through the lattice of creation.Evilside had made her move,and the gods were watching.The Court of the Old GodsIn the radiant halls of Dendra, god of beauty and mischief, laughter echoed first.It rolled like silver bells, light and mocking.The god lounged upon his throne of light and water, his hair bright as sunfire.“So,” he said, grinning, “the goddess of lilies has played her hand again.Delia, my dear, your husband Tan will be furious.”Delia, his guest, once Tan’s favorite, now radiant in calm defiance, smiled faintly.“He already is,” she said. “But rage is his oldest song. Let him sing it.”Tania, her daughter by Tan and now Dendra’s favored wife, stepped closer, her voice like tempered silk.“Serves him right. Mother warned him…he should never have meddled with the Liroids again.Now his own blood stains their t

The night winds over Cellok carried the scent of rain and steel when Doom Liroid received her first command.She was to travel beyond the lilies’ lands, to the trading citadel of Verrad,where a noble rumored to betray Evilside’s temple had taken refuge.It was not a high-risk mission, yet it was hers alone, a test of patience, stealth, and restraint.She left before dawn.Her mother’s blessing was wordless, her sister’s farewell cool.Only the lilies at the gates bowed their heads as she passed,their glow fading into shadow behind her.Verrad was a city of crimson banners and echoing halls.Doom moved through it like a ghost,until one evening in the tavern courtyard, she met a man whose presence broke her rhythm.He was tall, broad-shouldered, his hair the color of flame at dusk,a rare, arresting red that caught the lantern light.His eyes were a quiet gray, unreadable, and when he smiled,it was the kind of smile that belonged to someone who knew how to hide the truth.He called

The Temple of Lilies shimmered that day brighter than it had in years.From the highest spire of Cellok, bells tolled, deep, resonant, and full of silver light.It was Snake Eyes’ wedding day, the first union to be sanctioned since the decree of the thirteenth generation.The courtyards overflowed with Liroids, assassins and priests, artisans and hunters,each wearing their guild mark stitched into silk.Lilies of violet and shadow bloomed along the marble paths, their scent thick as starlight.Night Liroid, regal in obsidian and silver, stood among her daughters as the guests arrived.Beside her was Venom, radiant and smiling, her daughter Asin tugging at her gown.And a little apart, as ever, stood Doom, silent, poised, unreadable, with Rhel beside her.His presence drew curious glances.That hair, like living flame.That composure, too still for a mortal.Even the priests murmured, wondering which bloodline he hailed from.When the wedding hymns began, the high priestesses took the