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The Festival of Masks
Author: SKRACPP
last update2026-01-05 07:34:32

The trail had gone cold for months.

After Elo was cleansed and rewritten into the City of the Root, most believed that Evilside’s replacement system, the scattered contingencies meant to rise when a Liroid attended the root festival, had been completely dismantled. Most. Snake had never been among them.

Systems like Tan’s never relied on one piece. They were hydras: cut one head, and another learned to hide better.

The survivor had done exactly that.

He vanished during the chaos of the festival season, shedding identities the way serpents shed skin. By the time whispers surfaced again, they spoke of Mellow City, a place too orderly, too disciplined, too clean for criminals to thrive unnoticed.

Which meant only one thing.

Someone powerful was protecting him.

Or he believed he was untouchable.

Mellow City rose from the plains like a living contradiction, soft lights, flowing banners, canals that reflected the sky so perfectly it was difficult to tell where water ended and air began. Day
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  • BreakDown

    Everyone in the hall knew one immutable truth: Dark did not bend.Not to the elders. Not to blood. Not even to gods.That was why Evilside moved quickly.Before Dark could ignite the room beyond repair, the goddess drew the two apart, Dark sent away under Darkside’s reluctant grip, and Irinrod pulled into the private study, the doors sealing shut behind them with a sound like judgment.Evilside stood at the center of the chamber, ancient and unyielding.Her voice, when she spoke, was calm.“Irinrod,” she said, “your husband is long dead. He refused to bow. His fate was sealed by his own will.”Irinrod laughed, sharp, broken.“Dren was no different from Nonia’s King Beb. Tell me, Mother…why did Beb live when Dren could not?”Death stepped forward, eyes cold. “It was his choice. Let the dead rest.”That was when Irinrod finally snapped.“You have always been a heartless mother,” she hissed. “And you wonder where I learned to turn my heart to stone.”The room seemed to shrink around her

  • Darks Fury

    Irinrod approached Dark, who had just entered the hall. She was clearly tired from the long ride here, but Lady Irin could not wait long.Irinrod said, whispering something to Dark that clearly provoked her, and Snake watched from his corn. He knew his sister too well; she would not sit back for this. Her respect for the elders was on a short leash; everyone knew that.Everyone was still eating when the hall answered to Dark’s fury. The only thing to get her so worked up was when it had to do with her husband, King Beroot.“It better not be or else she would raise hell,” Dragon spoke in fear for dark.Darkside Quickly stood, “I need to do something before she does anything stupid.”It was too late, “You Liroids and your petty laws that only benefit one person.”Irinrod looked at her, “You'd better respect yourself, Dark.”Dark stood toe to toe with her and spat, “You must finish what you started, My LADY.”Her sarcasm did not sit well with Irinrod. Evilside arose and asked, “What seem

  • The Great Hall

    Evilside’s fingers tightened briefly around Snake’s wrist before she released him, her expression smoothing into something unreadable as she returned to the noise of the great hall. Snake lingered on the balcony a moment longer, breathing in the scent of sap and old stone, then followed her back inside.The hall roared with layered conversation, elders debating in low, dangerous tones, generals laughing too loudly, priests murmuring blessings over steaming bowls of root stew. Cellok was never quiet when the high ranks gathered; too many histories shared the same air.Snake returned to Darkside’s side. Blood had rejoined them as well, rubbing his ear where Moon, his mother, had tugged it mercilessly.“She enjoys humiliating me,” Blood muttered.Darkside smirked. “She enjoys reminding you that you’re still her child.”Blood glanced across the hall. “I’m surrounded by grandmothers. It’s a tactical nightmare.”Snake’s eyes drifted again, inevitably, to Doom.She sat stiffly at a side tabl

  • GAURD

    Blood did not waste time.By dawn the next day, Snake and Dragon were already in the lower training grounds of Cellok, an open, stone-ringed expanse where the air smelled of iron, sap, and old magic. Runes etched into the floor muted destructive force; nothing truly died here unless Evilside willed it.Blood rolled his shoulders and drew twin blades that gleamed like wet rubies. “Assassin plays,” he announced, “not killing. You’re rusty.”Dragon scoffed. “I killed a council of accountants three weeks ago.”“And I wiped a cult two nights before that,” Snake added mildly.Blood smiled wider. “Exactly. You’re rusty.”They took positions. Snake moved first, quiet, fluid, his presence thinning until even the shadows seemed uncertain of him. Dragon countered with brute precision, controlled violence, every strike measured to end a life without wasting motion.Blood slipped between them like smoke.“Too direct,” he told Dragon, tapping his wrist with the flat of his blade. “You’re thinking l

  • A Light Save

    Darkside’s study was quiet after the doors closed, the kind of quiet that pressed against the ears. The wards shimmered once and settled, sealing them away from the rest of the palace, and from Evilside’s listening.Darkside exhaled slowly and leaned back against her desk, arms folded. The fury she had worn moments earlier softened into something sharper and far more dangerous.“You really have no sense of self-preservation,” she said at last, eyes fixed on Snake. “Sneaking Trina through Mellow City during a purge? Do you know how close grandmother was to tearing the sky open over it?”Snake inclined his head. “I know.”“No,” she snapped, pushing off the desk and pacing, “you don’t. Knowing means fear, and fear means you wouldn’t have done it.”Dragon cleared his throat lightly. “For what it’s worth, she was already back in Kindraloy before we left Mellow City. Alive. Breathing. Annoyed with Snake, actually.”Darkside stopped pacing and pinched the bridge of her nose. “That does not c

  • A funny Journey

    The morning came quietly, as though the world itself knew better than to rush them.Mist still clung to the edges of the estate when Snake stepped into the courtyard, fastening the last clasp of his traveling armor. The metal was dark and worn, etched faintly with old Liroid sigils: protection, restraint, balance. He had worn it for centuries, yet every time he prepared for a mission, it felt heavier, as though memory itself had weight.Dragon was already there, leaning against a pillar with a cup of root wine in hand, far too relaxed for someone about to ride back into blood and shadow.“You look like you’re attending your own funeral,” Dragon said, eyeing him over the rim. “Smile a little. Cellok has missed us.”Snake snorted softly. “Cellok only ever misses the mess we leave behind.”Dragon grinned. “Exactly.”Behind them, the estate stirred awake. Servants crossed the courtyard with bundles and baskets, murmuring farewells. Drown was already gone; she had left before dawn, unable

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