The Wemont Empire is boarded by the three greatest rivers and the blue stone temple

Each sea represents a prosperous pillar of the Empire - trade, nature, and gems

The capital of Wemont, Therasus, housed many royals and nobles apart from the well established commoners

Two of these esteemed royal and noble houses were the Xiones and the Zywan family

Crowell gems

The cornerstone of the four regal establishments, namely, The Temple, The Royal Castle, The The Foreign Envoys Housing Castle, and The Zywan Castle

The Zywan family is known for their superior excellency in the Empire's social scene

All social events are organised and overseen by the Zywan family

The victors of the political world

A single word from the Zywan family could very well make or break your life

Xiones Castle built from the very same crowell gems were indeed a powerful house, the royal family

They excelled in fighting flying demons and maintaining magical aura to keep the public safe

Because of the brave antics of the Xiones family, the newly appointed emperor of the country with no doubt turned out to be the head of the Xiones family - Serox Xiones

If Zywan family is a political beast, then the Xiones family holds the process of might

EPISODE - ONE
THE BEGINNING

June 12th...
Year 376...
Xiones Castle...
Country of Therasus...

The conference hall seemed to hold its breath. Tall windows were veiled in heavy cloth, letting in just enough light to catch the gold threads in the old wall hangings-stories of battles won and thrones claimed long before any of them were born. Around the long table stood the heads of noble houses, their crests stitched into their cloaks, their faces unreadable. Low voices rose and faded again, never breaking the stillness for long. For a moment, no one moved; all eyes stayed on the great doors at the far end. When they opened, it would be Emperor Serox stepping through.

Name: Serox Xiones
Age: 52
Role: Emperor of the Wemont Empire
Residence: Xiones Castle in Therasus - capital of Wemont
Lineage: Royal, First son of the late Emperor - Selonex Xiones & previous Empress - Zara Xiones
Magic: -nil-

"Shall we hear the first appeal?" the Emperor said, settling into the high-backed armchair at the head of the long table. The table ran almost the full breadth of the hall, flanked by armchairs in a single line. Each was smaller than his own yet built to command respect, and together they framed the assembled elites. Silks rustled as nobles and royals shifted in their seats, their focus drawn fully to Emperor Serox as the day's proceedings began.

Xiones Castle gardens...

Name: Sterlla Xiones
Age: 21
Role: Crown Princess, Highest status among all noble princesses
Residence: Xiones Castle in Therasus - capital of Wemont
Lineage: Royal, second eldest child of Emperor - Serox Xiones & Empress - Seradole Xiones
Magic: Wielder of the spirit of purple light - power of dragon curse

Sterlla sat low in the grass, the hem of her gown brushing against the damp blades, her hands busy with the roses in front of her. She turned one bloom gently between her fingers, feeling the way the petals folded in on themselves, soft as fine cloth. The air carried both the sweetness of the flowers and the fresher, sharper scent of the lawn, which must have been cut earlier that morning.

Her eyes wandered now and then toward the gazebo. It stood out against the green, all clean lines and pale wood, the kind of thing you noticed even if you meant not to. Inside, three white porcelain chairs waited around a low table. On the table sat a wide plate, heavy and fine, and on the plate-strawberry cakes, neat and bright, the red berries almost glowing against the china. Three cups of tea had been poured already, their rose-scented steam twisting slowly into the air.

She was expecting company. For a while, she simply watched the clouds, letting them shift into shapes she couldn't quite name before they slid into something else. The longer she stared, the easier it was to lose track of time. She let out a small breath she hadn't meant to, unsure if it came from nerves or from the wait itself.

A hand touched her shoulder-light, almost careful. She turned at once, surprise pulling at her brow before it softened into a smile. The worry in her eyes faded as soon as she saw who it was.

Name: Simore Xiones
Age: 24
Role: Crown Prince, Excellent student of the elite academy of spirit wielders
Residence: Xiones Castle in Therasus - capital of Wemont
Lineage: Royal, eldest child & only son of the Emperor - Serox Xiones & Empress - Seradole Xiones
Magic: Wielder of the spirit of orange light - power of fire

"Did I keep you waiting too long, dear sister?" A warm voice called from behind, carrying easily across the quiet garden.

Sterlla turned at once, her eyes brightening. "Crown Prince Simore!" she said, leaning forward to draw him into an embrace. She had waited for this-truly waited-and the moment his arms closed around her, the longing in her chest eased. His hand moved in a gentle rhythm along her back, a touch that was both familiar and reassuring.

"Shall we have some cakes, then?" His smile was open, almost boyish despite his title.

Sterlla straightened slightly, her tone taking on a shade of formality. "Your Highness-"

"Sh, sh. Just Simore, my dear Sterlla," he said, soft but firm, the words laced with playful command.

Her lips curved. "Mm... very well. Brother Simore."

He lowered himself onto the grass beside her without hesitation, drawing his knees in and resting his chin upon them. His eyes flicked up toward hers. "So, who are we waiting for?"

"Lady Sigel..." she said, letting the name hang in the air.

At that, his brow furrowed. A shadow of thought crossed his features, and a trace of unease flickered in his gaze. "Sigel," he repeated, the name slow on his tongue.

Name: Sigel Xiones
Age: 20
Role: Crown Princess, Her charms bring about almost everyone to side with her whether she be right or wrong
Residence: Xiones Castle in Therasus - capital of Wemont
Lineage: Royal, third child of the Emperor - Serox Xiones & Empress - Seradole Xiones
Magic: Wielder of the spirit of pink light - power of flora

"Do you truly have to wait for that snake of a woman?" Simore's voice carried an edge now, the warmth from moments before replaced by something sharper.

"Brother, let us not spoil our bond-" Sterlla began, her tone gentle yet steady.

"Spoil our bond? I'm the one spoiling it?" His eyes lit with indignation. "Dear Sterlla, you should never suffer such venom, least of all from Sigel Xiones, no. Citra Vengelhoff. Tell me-what wrong have you ever done her? And still, she seizes every chance to wound you with her words."

Sterlla let out a patient sigh. "She is only in need of the right company-"

"And who could be more right than a family that cares for her?" Simore cut in, his voice rising. "Father took her in out of compassion for her loss, and still she dares to act so shamefully toward you..."

"Brother Simore..." Her voice was almost a whisper, a plea, her eyes meeting his in search of calm.

He drew a long breath, the anger loosening its grip. "It's sickening," he muttered, then gave a short exhale, his shoulders easing. A faint, almost apologetic smile touched his lips as he leaned back on his hands. His gaze lifted to the slow-moving clouds. "But I suppose I can't stop you, can I?"

Year 374 (two years ago)...
August 12th...
Therasus unidentified forest...

A young girl made her way along the rough forest path, each bare step pressing into the hard, uneven ground. She steadied herself by clutching at low branches and the rough bark of trees, moving slowly through the thicket. The forest around her was thick, shadows stretching longer as the sun sank toward the horizon. She caught her foot on an exposed root and pitched forward, landing hard. The jolt rattled through her small frame.

A sharp sting spread from her knee where a fresh bruise was already forming. Tears gathered quickly, and she blew on the sore spot as if it might ease the ache, one hand still cupping her scraped nose. Sniffling, she pushed herself upright and limped toward a leaning tree, slipping beneath its low branches as night began to creep in over the woods.

She drew her knees up under her chin, the sound of her own heartbeat loud in her chest. The air had grown colder, sliding through the thin fabric of her dress, and her trembling came from fear as much as from the chill. Eyes pressed shut, she wished-fervently-for someone to find her here in the dark.

"Who might you be?" The words cut clean through the quiet, making her flinch.

Her eyes flew open. She shifted deeper into the tree's shade, as if its shadows might hide her. A woman had appeared, sliding down from the back of a horse. Armor caught what little light was left of the day, and she walked forward with steady, unhurried steps toward the child.

Name: Midena Cera [now known as Seradole Xiones]
Age: 50 (present)
Role: Empress, Squad commander of the Therasus army
Residence: Xiones Castle in Therasus - capital of Wemont (present)
Lineage: Royal, Only child of the Cera family
Magic: Wielder of the spirit of smoke.

"What business does a child have wandering these treacherous woods?" Midena's voice cut through the stillness, sharp and commanding. The girl beneath the shadow of the tree flinched, her wide eyes lifting to meet the figure before her, only to dart away again. She opened her mouth to reply, but her words faltered under the weight of that piercing gaze.

"I am but a child of the earth, Your Majesty," she whispered at last, her voice trembling. "The City of Therasus knows me as Citra Vengelhoff."

"Vengelhoff?" Seradole's brow arched, suspicion narrowing her eyes. "Of the temple house?"

Citra nodded, tears already glistening on her cheeks. "Yet I am nothing now-only an abandoned girl who has come of age."

"What disgraceful conduct from priests who hold such stature," Midena said coldly, recalling the robed figures of the Bluestone Temple. She knelt before the child, her armor giving a muted chime. "You called me Your Majesty. You know who I am?"

"Of course, Your Majesty. One would have to live beneath stone not to know the Empress of our realm."

A faint smile curved Midena's lips. "You speak too kindly of me, Citra. I am but a woman, no different from you. Tell me-how many years has this young lady before me seen?"

"I am eighteen, Your Majesty."

"Eighteen?" Midena tilted her head. "Yet you claimed you were already of age when they cast you out. In our country..."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I meant that I had reached my thirteenth year when the Vengelhoff family disowned me. For the past unforgiving five years, I have been wandering the trees of this forest."

"Venomous creatures," Midena muttered under her breath. Her eyes softened, though the anger in them did not fade. "Do you know why they would do such a thing?"

"It... was my fault," Citra murmured.

"How so?" The Empress's tone gentled.

"I stumbled against the cornerstone, crowell gem, and when I fell, the sharpness of my heel chipped a piece from it."

"A chip?" Midena's voice sharpened again. "And for that they cast you into a forest crawling with winged unknowns? Fools without measure."

"It was my mistake, Your Majesty," Citra said, bowing her head. "The cornerstone meant more to them than I ever could." Her words broke on a sob.

Midena's jaw tightened. "You need not excuse their cruelty. I will treat you as my own blood. Come-rise, and follow me. You shall be known as Sigel Xiones from this day forth."

Mother brought Citra into the palace that day, renaming her as one of the Xiones family. My sweet sister Sterlla and I were overjoyed, eager to welcome a new sister into our lives. Citra seemed shy at first, fragile as porcelain, but we wrapped her in warmth and cheer, determined to make her feel at home.

For a time, it felt perfect-until I saw the fangs of the snake.

Year 374 - two years ago.
August 31st.
Xiones Castle.

Sigel twirled before the mirror in a gown of deep violet, the silk catching the light from the chandeliers like ripples upon still water. Each turn sent the fabric flowing about her in soft waves, as though the gown itself breathed with her. The golden frame of the mirror, carved with vines and blossoms, lent an almost solemn grandeur to her reflection.

Around her, the chamber hummed with quiet purpose. Maids moved in practiced harmony-some smoothing the folds of her gown, others pinning her hair into an intricate crown of braids. Powdered hands traced along her cheeks, adding the subtlest bloom to her complexion. The faint rustle of silk, the muted clink of jewelry, and the soft murmur of voices filled the air like a private symphony.

Sigel studied the young woman in the mirror before her. What she has become. She looked composed, regal-yet she scarcely recognized her. This day was no ordinary one. Tonight, before the eyes of the realm, she would be named the daughter of Emperor Serox and Empress Seradole. Excitement and dread coiled together in her chest, the weight of her new name pressing upon her like a crown not yet set.