2026-01-31 06:53:16
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Sheltered Daughters
Pattern’s estate glowed like a kingdom unto itself.Bron’s nobles, accustomed to polished marble and modest gold, stood speechless whenever they crossed its gates. Towers wrapped in enchanted ivy pierced the sky, white-stone halls veined with living silver, chandeliers formed of suspended starlight humming softly above. The floors shimmered like crushed diamonds beneath bare feet, and the gardens breathed with life: fountains pouring lily-scented water, statues carved from glowing moonstone, each face caught between beauty and sorrow.Within one of the inner chambers, Glass stood behind her youngest daughter, fingers moving with precise patience as she braided Echo’s hair. Each twist shimmered faintly, the braid responding to Glass’s magic as though it understood it was being shaped.Servant girls fluttered around Mist and Core, who lounged nearby, passing the time over a game of cards.Mist was quiet, an ethereal beauty with eyes that always seemed to be listening to something no one
Tan and his schemes
Tan strolled through Bron as though it still belonged to him.The streets bustled, too orderly for his liking. Too clean. Too obedient. Liroids, mortals, and half-blood traders all moved with their heads down, careful not to draw attention. Peace, they called it.Tan called it rot.Beside him walked Branch of Obedience, robes pristine, expression carved from practiced restraint. His staff clicked softly against the stone as they moved.“I miss the trouble,” Tan said lightly, hands clasped behind his back.Branch did not look at him. “You have been warned. The peace now is better than the wrath of Cirax.”Tan snorted. “How long do we plan to obey that old wench?”Branch stopped walking.Slowly, deliberately, he turned. “Careful,” he said, voice low. “She hears all. And she will not hesitate to kill you for insolence…blood or no blood.”Tan’s smile did not fade. If anything, it sharpened.“I have a plan,” he said. “Solid this time. It will not fail.”Branch exhaled through his nose. “Le
Brief Introductions
Evilside did not summon Passion with thunder.There was no spectacle, no court, no elders whispering in shadows.She called her alone.The underground palace breathed as Passion stepped inside, roots pulsing faintly, the air heavy with ancient grief and power. The great tree stirred, its bark shifting, and Evilside’s true form emerged slowly, vast and watching.“You will marry into the Norm Lands,” Evilside said, voice echoing through root and stone.Passion froze.“Their emperor is Kavan,” the goddess continued, unmoved. “God of Winds Koros’ cruel son.”Passion swallowed. Every child knew Koro, volatile, proud, untamed. To be his son was to inherit the storm without mercy.“He keeps a large harem,” Evilside added calmly, as if speaking of the weather. “You will not be his first. You will not be his favorite. But you will be his anchor.”Passion’s hands clenched. “You want me to survive him.”“I want you to own him,” Evilside replied. “Piece by piece. Law by law. Bed by bed, if necess
Farewells
They spent every stolen hour together after that.No grand declarations, no more arguments about fate, just quiet moments stretched thin, as if time itself pitied them. They walked the academy gardens at night, spoke in whispers, and memorized each other’s laughter. Passion slept beside him often, her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat like it was a promise she could carry with her.The night she insisted on staying fully in his arms, Sky gently stopped her.“No,” he said, voice trembling despite his calm. “I won’t taint you and leave you alone to face punishment.”Her eyes flashed with hurt. “I am not afraid of punishment.”“I am,” he answered. “Not for me. For you.”They fought then, quietly at first, then through tears. Passion accused him of trying to protect her from a world that had already claimed her. He told her love was not proven through suffering. She cried against his chest, fists clenched in his shirt, until exhaustion replaced anger.In the end, she accepted
A Message From Evilside
Heartless read the message twice.The parchment was thin, the writing sharp and unmistakably Evilside’s. No wasted words. No softness. Just a command wrapped in inevitability.Her fingers tightened around the scroll.Outside her window, the training grounds glowed under the late sun. Sky stood in the center of the field correcting a formation, calm and precise. Passion hovered too close to be accidental, pretending to argue with another student while stealing glances at him. When he looked her way, she straightened, chin high, as if daring the world to question her.Heartless watched the exchange and felt something in her chest ache.“Just when you were beginning to light up again…” she whispered.The crow was already gone. It never lingered after delivery. Evilside’s will did not wait for witnesses.Heartless folded the scroll carefully, as if neatness could delay what it contained. It couldn’t. Nothing delayed Evilside.She turned away from the window.Duty first.Always duty first.
The Warmth of Her
For days, the academy noticed the pattern.Sky kept Game close.Too close.Extra training sessions. Strategy reviews that lasted into the night. Patrol assignments that somehow always required the two of them alone. It was so obvious that even the younger cadets whispered about it.Deathsentence watched the spectacle with folded arms. “He’s saying leave me alone,” she told Passion bluntly.Passion shrugged. “It will take more than using one of my best friends to keep me away from him.”And so she escalated.If Sky stepped left, she was there. If he taught a class, she sat in the front row smiling like a curse. If he avoided her gaze, she waved. Loudly.Game nearly died laughing every day.Then, without warning,She stopped.No greetings. No lingering. No excuses to pass his office.Nothing.At first, Sky felt relief.Then the relief turned into something sour.By the third day, he was distracted enough to miscount a formation drill. By the fifth, he was snapping at cadets for breathin
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