LIROIDS: SNAKE

The roots of Cellok sprawled like veins of black iron beneath a poisoned sky. No birds nested in its branches, no wind dared stir the air. At the center of that dead realm stood the black, the cursed tree of the Shadowborn, where the lilies of venom bloomed silver and foul. Its bark pulsed faintly with an inner sickness, and from its hollow core poured the whispers of Evilside, the Tree Goddess, whose will had bound the Liroids for a thousand years.

Snake knelt before the roots. His cloak shimmered faintly, its scales visible in the dim glow of the lilies, his raven dark hair falling over his pale, flawless face. Serpents writhed in the shadows at his command, hissing softly as though eager to drink the sap that dripped from the tree's wounds. His gaze was sharp, cruel, and patient, a predator in silence.

Beside him bowed Dragon, taller and broader, hair as red as fire spilling like a mane of war. His presence radiated raw power, his shoulders like stone, his grin edged with hunger. If Snake was venom in the dark, Dragon was fire and storm, chaos unchained. Together, they were the scourge of nations, and tonight they were here to kneel before their goddess.

Behind them stood two women who could not have been more different.

Queen Dark of Doomsany, robed in flowing black, her iron crown whispering faintly with voices none dared name. Her lips curved into the faintest smile as she watched her brothers prostrate themselves. There was pride there, yes, but also disdain for she was their queen, they were executioners. Yet all three bent the knee to the tree, for above them all was Evilside {empress of the night}.

At Dark's side lingered Scream, her body veiled entirely in shadowed wrappings. No skin showed, no face revealed. Where she walked, silence deepened, and even the roots seemed to recoil. The mark she bore beneath the veils was so dreadful that none who had seen it lived to tell. She was Dark's closest confidante, and her presence here was a reminder that fear itself was her weapon, even though deep down she was a level-headed soul.

Further back, distant yet present, stood Glass, cloaked in silver. Her crystal eyes reflected the tree's dim glow as though she carried the future within her gaze. Calm, quiet, sorrowful, she neither bowed nor defied. She only watched, her lips pressed together as if already mourning what had yet to come.

Evilside was a terrifying monster, one she would not cross, though everyone in the house knew she was the most headstrong of all. She fought to keep her husband alive from the dreaded liroid curse; she would not let anyone take him from her. The last time they were here, Snake had run off to kindraloy to keep his wife from death and the curse; today, he was Evilside's favorite. What a quick turn of events that was.

The roots groaned. The ground quaked. Evilside spoke.

Her voice was not one but many, a thousand whispers crawling into marrow and thought. "The world burns with false fire. The King of Tan marches with banners of light. He calls me the thief of Ciria, the murderer of his goddess. He claims the fire-god Tan of Tan as his shield. His priests sing, his armies swell, his faith resists my shadows."

The whispers thickened, dripping venom. "Erase him. Break his armies. Silence his god. Bring me his crown."

Snake raised his head, lips curling into a thin smile. "Your will is death, goddess. My serpents will coil around his throne."

She sounded really angry, which was a first for him. Tan was trouble everyone wanted to avoid, but he wondered why Evilside would risk killing a man who served him.

Whatever their squabble, all he wanted to do was to be done with his task and go back to his family. It was the dragon that brought his thoughts back to the present.

Dragon's laugh was low and fierce, like a storm rolling from the horizon. "And I shall turn his holy fire to ash."

Snake only enjoyed working with Dragon because he was the only one who truly understood him. Dragon had been through hell 400 years ago when he lost his first wife, and Snake was the only one who brought him comfort till today. Evilside was a menace, but even if he was mad, he would not cross the queen. He was sure the dragon also wanted to go back to the safety of his home.

Coming to cellok meant they both would meet their mothers, whom they would very much love to avoid. Snake, because all-knowing Queen Doom, his mother, never liked his wife, Dragon, because his mother was the one who personally gave his wife up for the kill.

Queen Dark stepped forward, her robes whispering across the soil. "They will not fail you, goddess. Doomsany's blades and shadows are theirs to command. Tan's false king will fall, and Ciria's name will be forgotten."

She gave a promise she knew meant death. Looking at the corner of the throne room where Queen Heartless sat alongside Death, her granddaughter, she wondered what carved the foundation for such cruelty as their bloodline.

The first four queens: Evilside, Heartless the kind, Irinrode the cruel, and Death the patient one, all more than 8000years in age. Those women knew the world better than those who were born in the time the world was calm; she wondered what was on their minds as they watched their queen seek blood from another god.

At her side, Scream tilted her veiled head. Her voice, muffled and terrible, carried like the hiss of a blade through water. "Faith burns brighter than fire. It is faith that resists shadow. Faith must be broken first."

Scream knew what Dark was thinking; she also thought the same, but she would try everything to keep them all in check to avoid unforeseen calamities.

Glass's voice finally stirred the silence. Soft, sorrowful. "And if Tan of Tan answers their faith? If fire meets shadow, then all will burn. Even you, sister."

Dark loved trouble, even if it meant baiting her sister.

Dark's smile faltered. She turned on Glass, her eyes sharp as knives. "Storms matter little when the night is endless."

Glass sharp as her name was too soft for their line, one of the major reasons why she loved poking her.

The tree groaned again, black sap dripping into the soil. Evilside's command was sealed, and so was their fate.

Snake and Dragon bowed once more, their eyes gleaming with shadow. They would march, and Tan would bleed.

They left the roots of Cellok beneath a sky that never saw the sun. The land stretched dead and silent, the earth ashen and cracked. Snake walked in silence, his serpents whispering in the dark around him. Dragon strode at his side, his steps heavy, a grin tugging faintly at his lips.

"You look too pleased," Snake muttered, his voice low and dry.

Dragon's grin widened. "It has been too long since blood flowed freely. A king's death is no small hunt."

A lie they both knew that. Though they loved a good hunt, Evilside was not to be trusted.

Snake's gaze flicked to him. "His priests wield holy fire. Faith makes men dangerous. You remember Puma's lessons—faith kills faster than steel."

Dragon spat into the ash. "Faith is smoke. Fire is flesh. I will burn them both."

Snake played with a serpent as he listened to Dragon speak. It was indeed thrilling, but deep down, he felt a cold chill go down his spine.

They walked in silence for a time, the air thick with whispers that clung to them even after leaving the tree's reach.

Doomsany rose ahead, the kingdom of their sister. Its spires clawed at the gray sky, its walls black stone slick with damp. The banners of Queen Dark hung from every tower: an iron crown surrounded by thorn and flame. The city was alive with shadows, soldiers moving in silence, priests chanting beneath braziers of black fire, Evilsides' eyes and ears.

To willingly be a priest or priestess was the only way to keep your spouse away from the curse, but he knew Trina would rather die than give up worshipping Tan.

Snake and Dragon entered the throne hall, where Dark sat upon her seat of iron and bone. Scream lingered beside her, still and silent, a phantom of veiled terror. The hall was crowded with courtiers, generals, and spies, all of them bowing low as the assassins approached.

"My brothers of the shadow," Dark purred, her voice smooth as oil. "The goddess has spoken. You march against Tan, sworn enemy of Cellok. But you will not march alone. Doomsany's blades march with you. My priests will poison their wells. My spies will cut their throats. You will carve the path, and I will take the crown."

She spoke as though he was not 400years older than she was. Dark's commands to him were a small matter, but to try and claim what was not hers was another thing altogether.

Snake inclined his head. "The crown belongs to Evilside."

Dark's smile sharpened. "All crowns belong to Evilside. But some must pass through mortal hands first."

She was indeed a cunning snake.

Dragon chuckled, stepping forward. "So long as his blood stains the earth, I care not whose hands the crown touches."

From behind her veil, Scream whispered, "The king's faith makes him bold. He believes his god will shield him. Break the faith, and the man will fall."

Snake's eyes lingered on her shrouded form. Even he, who feared little, felt the weight of her presence. He turned away.

"We leave with nightfall," Snake said.

"Night never ends in Cellok," Dark answered. "But go. The goddess watches."

Far to the south, in Tan, firelight bathed the crusader king's camp.

He stood before his men clad in armor polished like gold, his blade raised high. His eyes burned with conviction, his voice carrying above the roar of fire.

"Brothers! Sisters! Sons of Tan! The shadow rises from Cellok, and it is here to devour us. Evilside, the cursed tree, murdered Ciria, our goddess of life, our beloved mother of balance. She drank her light, turned her breath into shadow. Shall we stand idle? Shall we let a thief claim divinity?"

A roar of voices answered: "No!"

He lifted his sword higher, flame catching along its edge. "Then we march. For Ciria's vengeance. For Tan of Tan. For light against shadow!"

The camp erupted in cheers, holy fire blazing in every brazier. His priests stood behind him, chanting, their hands raised to the heavens. The king's faith burned like a sun.

He knew Tan was on his side, but his god was a plotting fox. He wondered what this battle would earn him. As he looked above him at the walled art, a painting gave a sinister grin. Just then, he knew Tan was present.

And in Kindraloy, a town where magic was forbidden, where even whispers of the curse could not pass, a woman stood at a window watching her son sleep.

Trina, brown-haired and weary, pressed a hand to the glass. Snake's son, Shiver, dreamed on the bed, his tiny hand curled around the blanket. The mark of Tar already glowed faintly on his skin, black and cruel. At only four years old, the power stirred within him.

She whispered a prayer, though she did not know if Tan of Tan could hear her here. "Protect him. Keep him hidden. Do not let the curse take him." He meant more to her than her life.

In the silence, she thought of her husband, Snake, assassin, servant of shadows, father of her child. He walked in darkness, but he came here sometimes, bringing the scent of ash and death. She loved him still, though fear lived always in her chest.

Far away, Snake's thoughts flickered to her as he walked the halls of Doomsany. He pictured Trina's smile, Shiver's small hand. He told himself he served the goddess, but part of him longed for the peace of Kindraloy, where shadows could not reach.

Dragon, too, carried ghosts. His mind turned to Passion, his daughter by his lost love, the only piece of light in his cursed life. He thought also of Flame and Fury, his children by Rage, one fierce and reckless, the other cold and cunning. They would hunger for battle, he knew. They would inherit his curse.

The brothers shared no blood but would die for each other. No words were spoken as they prepared for war, but their silence was heavy with memory.

Back in Cellok, Glass stood alone before the black tree. The roots whispered still, promises of death and conquest. But she saw beyond them, into shards of crystal light that only she could read.

She saw Snake's serpents devouring kings. She saw Dragon's fire burning holy banners. She saw Shiver's mark spreading across the land like plague. She saw Flame and Fury's eyes gleaming with hunger, Passion turning away in sorrow.

And beyond it all, she saw fire meeting shadow, gods colliding, the world breaking beneath them.

Her voice was soft, almost lost to the whispers of Evilside.

"Every shadow carries its end."