LIROIDS: SNAKE

Chapter Two: Brothers of Shadow

The gates of Doomsany opened like the jaws of a beast. Iron teeth, carved with the faces of the dead, swung wide to allow the assassins through. Dark always had a funny taste when it came to decorating, but this was plain old crazy. Every time he walked these streets of Doomsday, he could feel the stench of death it carried, sacrifices made to keep her family safe. Snake and Dragon walked side by side, their steps echoing across the black stone bridge that arched over a chasm of smoke and flame. Below, molten rivers coursed, feeding the furnaces that kept the city alive in its endless hunger.

The streets of Doomsany bustled with dark order. Soldiers in spiked armor marched in disciplined ranks. Priests painted with ash muttered prayers beneath banners marked by the iron crown of their queen. Shadows seemed to move of their own accord, whispering, slithering, carrying secrets to the throne. It was a kingdom built not on hope but on fear, and fear was Queen Dark's chosen foundation.

Their mother Doom would be pleased.

He missed his home and his mother, but she had scared him to the point of no return. It had been two centuries since that fateful night. The kingdom must have grown by now, maybe even more powerful than doomsany, for Doom was a nonchalant monarch who upheld the law like her very own child. She would carve and bend it to the will of her goddess, Evilside. He wondered how she was doing; court life must be growing on her.

In the great hall, Queen Dark sat upon her throne of black iron and bone. Where their mother once sat and ordered the death of his wife and Dark's husband, but that was now ancient history, for they had survived the purge. Beside her stood Scream, her very presence made him shiver, cloaked and veiled, silent as death itself. Scream was a unique liroid one who was allowed to wed a mortal man with no royal bloodline or lineage, but her daughter's game was something else entirely. Her Courtiers, generals, and spies filled the chamber, yet when the assassins entered, the room fell to silence.

"My brothers," Dark said, her voice smooth and cold. She enjoyed playing with power. "The goddess has spoken. The crusader king marches with fire in his hand and lies on his tongue. He names Evilside a thief, Ciria's murderer, and his faith swells with every word. This cannot stand."

"What is this infidels name?". A general asked.

"We would ask him once you bring me his head". She spoke with disdain.

Mortals found it hard to know their place, and Dark felt it was her duty to remind them.

Snake bowed his head. Dragon crossed his arms and grinned, fire flickering faintly in his eyes as he watched the snake, for he knew it was not easy taking orders from his sister.

Seated by a window was King Beroot Darks' beloved husband, Princess Death Sentence, their second sire, one who carried such promise, or so the liroid academy thought. She was as stubborn as her mother but was more reasonable. Prince Drought, their first sire, was only 100 years old but was wiser than many; he was not pleased with the activities of Evilside, but why his mother would enjoy it, he wondered.

His mother was never like this, but fear of loss turned her this way. Evilside will still claim his father, for he had passed the age that was agreed upon, but his mother would do everything to stop it before that day came, even turning into a monster.

Standing beside his father, he looked upon his mother with mixed feelings of love, grief, and contempt.

The liroid curse would only accept female sires, but thanks to Dread Death's daughter and first to almost lose her male sire, to the cold hands of death, but before that could happen, she amended the law to favor male sires by birthing a female almost immediately.

"You will not go alone," Dark continued. "Doomsany marches with you. My spies will cut throats in the night. My priests will poison the wells of Tan. And my generals will carry fire to their cities. But you two will lead. You will carve the path for our victory."

Snake's gaze flickered across the hall, noting the faces of the generals who glared at him with envy, the priests who trembled even in their faith. If only they knew what he truly felt. He spoke softly, his voice like the hiss of a serpent. "The goddess demands his crown. We will bring it." As though on cue.

Dragon laughed, loud and fearless. "Let me burn his banners, and I care not who takes the crown." He would see who would win between Evilside and Dark.

Dark's lips curved in a cruel, sinister smile. "Your flames will not be denied, brother. But remember, every fire casts a shadow, and every shadow belongs to me."

She was a determined one, he thought to himself. What would be of her by the end of all this drama, he thought. Who would Snake protect?.

Dragon loved the guts Dark had. He cared not that he was 800years older and not of the same sire with her, but, if only he had her courage 400 years ago.

Screams movements brought him back to the present; she was indeed unique down to every single detail, one would think she was general bloods sire.

Beside Dark, Scream shifted. When she spoke, her voice was muffled, terrible, as though spoken from behind a veil of earth itself. "Beware his priests. They carry fire not of men, but of gods. Faith burns deeper than steel."

The courtiers shuddered. Snake's eyes narrowed. Even he, fearless as he was, felt the weight of Scream's words.

Later, in the quiet of a war room lit only by black braziers, Snake and Dragon stood over a map of Tan. The parchment was scarred with knife cuts, the borders marked by symbols of fire and shadow.

Dragon jabbed a finger at the heart of Tan. "The king's camp. We strike there first. Cut off the head, and the body dies."

Dragon loved the easy way out, which was sometimes dangerous. Sometimes he wondered how he could contain his excitement and keep himself focused at the same time.

Snake shook his head. "Too simple. Puma taught us better. A beast fights hardest when cornered. We weaken him first. Strike the priests, the generals, the supply lines. By the time we reach his camp, his faith will be wounded, his men starving, his gods silent."

He knew Tan was up to something if only he could guess right, then maybe, just maybe, he could avoid further battles.

Dragon scowled but did not argue. Instead, he poured himself a cup of black wine and drank deeply. "You sound like Glass. Always cautious. Always waiting."

Snake's eyes darkened. "Glass sees what we do not. Her warnings should not be ignored." His sister was always right.

She must also be confused as to why Tan would poke Evilside. Something was amiss. He would have a word with her before their departure. It was dragon's laugh that made him even more cautious.

Dragon laughed again, though softer this time. "Glass sees storms in every shadow. Yet here we still stand."

Snake said nothing. His thoughts wandered, past the hall, past Doomsany's walls, to Kindraloy, where his wife and son lived. Trina's smile, Shiver's small hand marked with Tar. They were hidden from the curse there, shielded by Kindraloy's ban on magic, but for how long? If the war reached Tan, would Kindraloy remain untouched?

Dragon watched him in silence, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "You think of them again."

Snake did not answer.

They were silent for what felt like 100years before Dragon spoke again.

Dragon's voice softened, rare for him. "I think of mine, too. Passion grows older. She looks more like her mother each day. She is all I have left of her. And Flame, reckless fool, he hungers for war already. Fury whispers in her mother's tongue, twisting hearts. They are pieces of me, cursed though they are. You and I… we are assassins, Snake, but we are fathers, too. That is the cruelest curse of all."

Snake allowed a thin smile. "Perhaps."

The two assassins stood together in silence, brothers in more than blood, bound by the curse that shadowed every Liroid.

Far away, in Tan, the crusader king rode among his men. His armor gleamed in the torchlight, his sword catching fire with every swing. He lifted it high, and the soldiers roared.

He spoke with the voice of faith. "We march not only for Tan, but for Ciria, our goddess of life, murdered by the thief tree. Evilside drinks her blood, but Tan of Tan answers our cries! For Ciria's vengeance. For Tan of Tan's glory! For the light!"

The roar shook the night. Priests lifted braziers of holy fire, chanting, their voices weaving strength into the army's bones. The crusader king smiled grimly. He knew shadows were coming. He welcomed them.

Back in Doomsany, Glass sat alone in her chamber of crystal. Shards of light floated before her, fragments of visions too sharp to grasp. She saw Snake kneeling in blood, Dragon burning in fire, Shiver's mark spreading like plague, Flame and Fury's eyes gleaming in hunger, and Passion turning her face away.

She whispered, "Every shadow carries its end."

But no one heard her.

Snake walked into the crystal room with caution. He looked upon his baby sister with love as he sat by her.

"What do you see, dearest?". She looked at him with soothing eyes

"What do you wish to know, dear brother?" Snake closed his eyes and answered, "What does Tan want?"

Glass held her brother's soft hands. "I think we both know what the crane god wants".

In that moment, he remembered just why his mother never accepted Trina as his bride and gave a sad sigh.

"Just how long do I have to delay the inevitable?" Glass looked at him with a quiet calm.

"How long do you need?" she held him closer.

Glass had always acted wiser than her age from the day she drank from the lillies and got her mark to activate her powers. She knew him better than anyone.

Snake gave a sad smile, "Just enough." he stood, embraced her, and walked towards the entrance to her room. "Maybe Evilside would deem it fit to assist".

He was unsure, but he would speak to her about it in the near future. But for now, he had to do what he could to cripple the crane god.

Glass watched him walk out of the room with sadness, for even the snake could fear the future.

"Good luck, dear brother," she whispered the words for the wind to carry, for she truly wished him the best. She looked back into the crystals and wept bitter tears, cursing the tree goddess and the gods as well.

Night deepened. Snake stood on a balcony overlooking Doomsany's streets. Below, soldiers marched, priests chanted, shadows slithered. He thought of Kindraloy, of Trina, of Shiver. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of ash.

Dragon joined him, leaning against the stone rail. "We march soon."

Snake nodded.

Dragon's grin was fierce, hungry. "Are you ready?" He was not either, but the snake gave him courage. They were best of friends, their minds worked together like siamese twins. He needed him more than he had thought.

Snake's eyes opened, cold and cruel. "Always." He would do anything to keep his family safe, anything at all.

Together they stood, assassins of shadow, brothers bound by curse and blood. The war had begun, though no sword had yet struck.

And in the roots of Cellok, Evilside whispered, her voice like a thousand knives: "Shadows do not yield. Not to fire. Not to gods. Not to men."