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The Children of the Marks
(Part II – The Vision of Solitude)The Halls of KovuFar beyond the lily valleys of Cellok, beyond even the tides of Civax, lay Kovu, the realm of amber skies and still winds.Its towers were carved from one seamless crystal, and silence was its law. Here dwelt Kiria, god of Solitude and Keeper of Unbroken Thought.No laughter rang in his halls; no echo dared to linger. The only sound was the pulse of eternity itself.Kiria sat upon a dais of gold veined with night. Around him burned a circle of mirrors showing the turning of worlds, oceans, mountains, and the quiet prayers of mortals.For centuries, he had watched without emotion, content to let time unfold as it must.But that evening, when the silver moon touched his mirrors, the calm broke.The VisionThe god’s eyes clouded. In the mirror before him, a tide of lilies unfurled across every realm, sea, and desert, mountain and flame. The marks of the Liroids shone on kings and beggars alike, their blood flowing into divine veins. He
The Children of the Marks
The Lily CourtSeventeen springs had passed since the lilies first bloomed in Cellok.Every year their petals spread farther, marking the lands of the Liroids with quiet light. In that season of peace, two young women grew tall among the whispers of faith, Bright Wrought and Bright Wrath, daughters of Love and Hate, granddaughters of Lyra and Blood.They were cousins by birth, sisters by heart, and opposites by nature.Bright Wrought had her mother’s calm eyes and her father Cion’s stillness; she moved like water that hid its depth.Bright Wrath laughed loud and often, her hair the colour of molten copper, her gaze bright as a spark about to leap.Both carried the silver lily mark upon their skin: Wrought’s glimmered as a small blade turned toward the sun; Wrath’s shone like crossed swords etched in gold.The goddess Evilside loved to have them near. When she rose from her tree, the cousins would sit among her roots while she spoke of the old wars and the births of stars. She called t
The Marks of the Tree
Part I – The Births of LightTwo quiet years had passed since the twin weddings that stilled the heavens.Cion and Love ruled the silver realm of Civax beside the pearl seas; Sho and Hate tended the bright mountains of Shill, where fire bloomed like gardens.Peace seemed so complete that even the old songs forgot the sound of sorrow.Then, on a night of twin moons, destiny quickened again.In Civax, the sea grew restless with a strange gladness. Waves rose not in storm but in applause as Love laboured in her coral chamber. When the child’s first cry echoed through the domes, Cirax’s ocean pearls flared with light.“She shall be called Bright Wrought,” Love whispered, cradling the infant whose eyes mirrored the moonlit tide. “Shaped by peace, tempered by grace.”Far away in Shill, beneath the crimson vault of the volcano palace, another cry joined the song of the world. Hate stood unbending through the heat until Sho placed their daughter in her arms. The newborn’s breath sent sparks d
The Union of Kingdoms
The heavens had grown restless.Storms of light passed between Dendra’s western halls and Tan’s silver towers; the earth shuddered beneath their rivalry. Even the winds began to choose sides.From her quiet realm of crystal seas, Cirax, the goddess of the Celestial Tides, watched the discord and sighed.“These wars of pride will sink the stars themselves,” she said. “Perhaps what the gods cannot mend, love can.”The envoy of CiraxShe called her son, Prince Cion of Civax, a being woven of water and moonlight. His eyes held the calm of deep oceans, and his voice carried the sound of waves breaking gently on sand.“You will go to the Liroids,” she told him. “Find the one named Love. Bring her peace, and through her, bring the worlds back to reason.”Cion bowed. “If she is as her name, Mother, perhaps she will teach even the seas to feel again.”Love’s meeting by the liliesIn the valley of her birth, Love was tending lilies when the sky rippled like water. From its shimmer stepped Cion,
The Court of Dendra
The sky above the western heavens blazed gold as Delia’s chariot descended upon the Palace of Dendra, the god of beauty, valor, and mischief.The walls shimmered like sunlight on the sea; the air itself hummed with song.Servants bowed as she entered, the wife of the Crane God, favored once among a hundred, now exiled by pride.And at the top of the shining stairs, her eldest daughter awaited; Tania, radiant and furious, the backbone of Dendra’s house and one of his most beloved wives.The Daughter’s WrathWhen Tania saw her mother, she ran forward, tears already burning down her cheeks.“Mother,” she cried, “he dared to insult you?”Delia smiled sadly, touching her daughter’s face. “He dared, and he paid in pride.”Tania’s eyes blazed crimson. “I will make him pay in more than pride.”Before Delia could answer, the palace trembled, and flames rose from the courtyard as Tania’s rage became tangible. “Let his feathers burn! Let every Mogro temple remember what happens when they shame o
The Crane God’s Fall from Grace
High above the mortal plains, beyond the reach of wind and prayer, stood the Celestial Aviary, the radiant palace of Tan of Tan, Crane God of Trouble, Lord of Feathers and Mischief, God of the Mogros.Its towers shone with pale light, and its courtyards rang with the rustle of wings. But beneath the beauty was noise, the endless chatter and rivalry of a hundred wives and over 500 of his concubines, each a fragment of Tan’s chaos given form.Among them, only one spoke with calm authority, Delia, the eighty-eighth.Delia’s WarningDelia entered the high hall as Tan reclined upon his throne of silver feathers. He was laughing, surrounded by wine, music, and flattery.She bowed lightly. “My lord husband.”Tan raised an eyebrow. “Delia. Come to remind me how serious the world is again?”“I’ve come to warn you,” she said evenly. “The Liroids are not your playthings. Evilside’s fury is not a storm you can charm away. You may laugh now, but this path will cost the Mogro people dearly. Their b
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