#aetherbound verse

[378clover]

Aetherbound dreamtale au

The realm of the tree of feeling

Beyond the boundaries of time and space, where the threads of emotions weave the destinies of countless worlds, lies the realm of the tree of feeling . A sacred plane untouched by the chaos of mortal existence, it exist in a dimension entirely separate from all other universe, a place of ethereal beauty and unfathomable power.

At its heart stand the tree of feeling , an awe inspiring colossus that soars into the sky, its trunk vast enough to hold entire civilization, its bark glows faintly, pulsing with golden and shadowy veins -two forces intertwined yet distinct, its leaves shimmer with the emotion of countless beings, absorbing and releasing waves of energy that influence the balance of all realm.

Beneath its boundless branches, the realm expands into a mesmerizing land of endless twilight . The sky its neither day nor night but an eternal dance of dusk and dawn, where celestial rivers flow with liquid stardust , and the ground glow softly with the life force of the universe itself. The land is vast, stretching into silver forest, floating island and crystalline lakes that mirror the emotion of those who gaze into them .

Two great forces government this realm . Sigvard , the guardian of light and day , and Valdrik , the guardian of darkness and night. Created by the slumbering primordial goddes Nim , they are bound by duty to protect the tree of feeling, ensuring that emotions flow naturally and do not spiral into imbalance .

However, should the tree of feeling be harmed , the consequences ripple across existence - world could become to suffocatingly bright , where's positivity blinds and consume all , or they could descend into eternal darkness, where hope is forever lost . Maintaining harmony is a sacred duty , and to fail would mean catastrophe beyond comprehension .

Thought Sigvard and Valdrik cannot directly interfere , they guide chosen individual - champion of their ideals - to act in their stead . Sigvard, ever hopeful and compassionate , seeks to nurture those with kind heart , while Valdrik, pragmatic and reserved , only bestow his influence upon those who prove their strength. Their rivalry shapes the destiny of many , yet their love as brother remain Unbroken , even as their ideals clash .

And so, the realm of the tree of feeling remain hidden beyond mortal perception , influencing countless worlds without their knowledge. A realm of eternal balance , watched over by two ancient souls, forever bound to its fate.

[378clover]

[At Central Atrium of the tree of feeling]

Sigvard's enters, beaming, carrying a squirming fluffball in his arms. It looks like a walking marshmallow crossed with a sparkle filter

In a sing–song voice Sigvard's spoke "Good morning, dearest brother! Guess what i found on the eastern breeze trail!"

Valdrik's (not looking up from his book): "A glittery infestation?"

Sigvard's (ignoring that): "No, a Wolly Purrball! He purrs when people are happy. I named him 'Sir Snuggleforth the Third'."

Valdrik's (deadpan):"…There were two before this?"

Sigvard's: Technically, no. But he feels like a Third. Very distinguished. Like you, if you were smaller, fluffier, and capable of joy."

Sir Snuggleforth the Third' sneezes sparkles. A tiny rainbow appears above his head. A flower blooms nearby with a giggle.

Valdrik's: "You brought home a giggling powder puff. Excellent. Let's feed it to one of the carnivorous vines and call it a day."

Sigvard's: "Don't be cruel. He loves you already! Look, he's quivering with delight!"

Sir Snuggleforth quivers violently in Valdrik's direction. Valdrik's raises and eyebrow. The Vine nearby droops in disappointments.

[At Valdrik Library Garden]

Ancient tome float gently around shelves carved from obsidian trees. Rose bushes line the garden edge, each one perfectly trimmed. Some whisper. One hums ominously.

Sigvard's (teasing): "You know, you could stand to have companion. Something living, warm, perhaps even…emotionally available."

Valdrik's (flat): "I have companions. My books. My silence. Occasionally, the rain when it's being poetic."

Sigvard's: "None of those can cuddle you back."

Valdrik's: "Precisely."

[Later That Day…]

Valdrik's strides in the palace hallway. He carries a lavishly decorated cage… holding a single, motionless rock. It's shiny, polished, and resting on a cushion of black Velvet trimmed with silver.

Sigvard's (blinking): "…What is that?"

Valdrik's (with grandeur): "This is Lord Obsidian von Granite the Eternal, Marquess of Stillness, Duke of Despair."

Sigvard's: "It's a rock"

Valdrik's: "A Noble rock"

Sigvard's: "Does it move?"

Valdrik's: "No"

Sigvard's: "Does it emote?"

Valdrik's: "Never"

Sigvard's: "Does it do anything?"

Valdrik's: "He absorbs negativity. Also, he has an aura of deep judgment. Watch."

He set the cage down. A nearby Vine recoils slightly. Sir Snuggleforth stops purring, sniffing the air, and let out a nervous "peep"

Sigvard's: "I think he made my pet insecure."

Valdrik's: "Good. Builds character."

Sigvard's: "Why, does it seems like you're doing this just to spite me."

Valdrik's (smiling): "Its must have been just your imagination brother."

[378clover]

A Sip of Disappointment

The glass house was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves as the wind whispered through the garden. Sigvard's sat with one leg draped over the other, a smug grin on his face as he swirled a goblet of deep red wine. Across from him, Valdrik's was reading, or at least attempting to, until his twin incessant staring became unbearable.

Sigvard's sighed dramatically. "You know, dear brother, it's quite rude to ignore someone when they bring a gift."

Valdrik's didn't look up. "If this 'gift' is as absurd as your usual acquisitions, I'm not interested."

Sigvard's gasped in mock offense. "How dare you? This, my dear brother, is a treasure from the mortal realm. A fine wine, aged for centuries in casks infused with the essence of magic. A single sip is said to bring warmth to the soul."

Valdrik's slowly closed his book. "We don't have souls."

Sigvard's waved a hand. "Details." He poured a generous amount into a second goblet and slid it toward his brother. "Go on. Just a sip."

Valdrik's sighed, took the glass, and examined the liquid. He swirled it once before taking a slow, careful sip.

Silence

Then, his eye-lights flickered with mild surprise. "…This is water."

Sigvard's beamed. "No, it's—wait, what?"

Valdrik's took another sip, his expression deadpan. "It tastes like water. Perhaps with a hint of fruit."

Sigvard's grin faltered. He grabbed the bottle, checked the label, then took a sip himself. He smacked his jaw, as if waiting for something to hit.

Nothing

"What is this garbage?!" He exclaimed, staring at the bottle like it had personally betrayed him. "The mortal vendor swore this was their strongest!"

Valdrik's set his goblet down. "Mortal wine is weak, Sigvard. Even their 'strongest' drinks are little more than flavored water to us."

Sigvard's groaned, slumping back into his chair. "All that effort, and for what? I was expecting something that could at least tingle."

Valdrik's returned to his book. "Perhaps next time, you should do better research before bringing home disappointments."

Sigvard's huffed. "Oh, shut up."

But as he brooded over his failure, and idea struck him.

"…Perhaps I should ask Saturn for a real drink next time."

Valdrik's paused, then gave him a look of genuine warning.

"Don't"

But Sigvard ignored him.

[378clover]

Blooming love

Chapter : 4

The soft glow of bioluminescent flowers bathed Elowen sanctuary in a warm, golden light. Her home, woven into the roots of an ancient tree, swayed gently with the rhythm of nature itself. Within it's heart, cushioned by petals and fragrant air, Morvyn sat rigidly, his usual composed demeanor fraying at the edges.

Elowen lounged before him, bare as the night, her crimson hair cascading over her shoulders like molten fire. Droplets of golden nectar clung to the curve of her breast, trailing down to her taut stomach. She watched him, amusement flickering in her gaze as he wrestled with restraint.

He had already tasted it from the cup, already surrendered to it's rich, ambrosial sweetness. And yet, now, the source lay before him, glistening, beckoning.

Elowen ran a lazy finger over her bosom, gathering a droplets before bringing it to her lips. "You seem troubled, Morvyn." Her voice was lilting, teasing. "Does the thought of drinking directly unsettle you?"

He did not answer. His jaw was set, his breathing controlled — but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. His gaze, sharp as a blade, refused to lower, refused to acknowledge the temptation before him.

Elowen tilted her head, smirking. "Would it help of i insisted?" With deliberate slowness, she leaned forward, pressing the soft swell of her breast against his lips. The warmth of her skin, the faint, floral scent of her, invaded his senses. "Drink, Morvyn. Indulge yourself."

His breath was uneven now. His mind screamed for discipline, for restraint—but his body betrayed him. The taste of her nectar still lingered on his tongue, and here she was, offering it freely, intimately

A muscle in his jaw tensed. "Elowen…"

"Shhh," she hushed him, her fingers threading through his dark hair. "I only every give this to you. You wouldn't refuse such a precious gift, would you?"

She pressed herself closer, guiding him until his lips brushed over the golden droplets beading at her nipple. He hesitated for only a moment before leaning in, his tongue flicking out to catch a stray droplets. The taste was intoxicating, richer when drawn from her warmth. A slow shudder ran through him as he parted his lips, surrendering.

The first pull sent a tremor through Elowen, a sigh slipping past her lips as pleasure coiled in her core. Her fingers tightened in his hair, pressing him closer as he drank from her, slow and deliberate. "Good…" she murmured, voice thick with pleasure. "See? It tastes even sweeter when taken from the source."

Morvyn said nothing, his silence the only shield he had left. But even that, he knew, was beginning to crack.

And Elowen? She simply smiled, knowing he would never forget this moments.

[378clover]

A Quiet Moment Beneath the Leaves

The hillside was still.

Only one crooked tree stood against the soft breeze, it's shadows long in the late afternoon light. Beneath it, Valdrik leaned against the trunk, dressed in his usual layers of dark robes, fingers idly turning the pages of an old book. His expression was unreadable, but the calm in his posture betrayed his rare comfort.

Sigvard's lay beside him, barefoot and golden in the setting sun, his harp resting gently across his lap. He leaned into Valdrik's side like it was the only place gravity meant to pull him. Eyes half lidded, he plucked at the strings— a quiet, sorrowful tune.

Then, he sang.

His voice was delicate and hollow, as though remembering something long lost, something precious but unreachable.

"My the star-lit hour fall, as the sun's light fades"

"Let this dusk speak of years long gone"

"None shall hear the echo of starlit birth"

"But the stars and nightingales remember sorrow"

"Love could not live in the bird's broken song"

"The flower fell, the night caught it"

"Let all things say farewell"

"And fire will sink into the deep heart"

"I loved you… now be gone!"

"The light once bright is now dimmed"

"May you forget me in sorrowful years"

"But sorrow will walk with you still"

Sigvard's fingers slowed, trailing one last, trembling note across the harp. His head dipped, breath leaving him softly.

For a few seconds, there was only the hush of wind in the grass.

Then, from above him, Valdrik's spoke—not coldly, but with quiet dryness.

"…It's unlike you to sing of loss."

Sigvard's leaned his head more fully against Valdrik's chest. "Even light carried shadows, brother."

Valdrik's closed his book, letting the pages rest against his knee. He didn't respond right away.

Then, after a moment: "You should sing that again. Next time… let me begin it."

Sigvard's smiled faintly. "So you were moved."

Valdrik's gave the faintest of sighs, eyes half lidded behind his lashes. "I am always moved. I simply move inward."

And beneath the old tree, two eternal beings let the hush stretch between them, letting it mean peace for now.

[378clover]

Festival of the eternal guardians

The air beneath the tree of feeling shimmered with golden and indigo light, the massive roots cradling a grand city of ethereal beauty. Every hundred years, the Luthren and Thal'vhen set aside their duties to celebrate the festival of the eternal guardians, honoring the twin protectors - Sigvard's and Valdrik's.

The festival stretched across the entire realm, a mesmerizing sight of glowing lanterns drifting through the air like star, shimmering banners woven with silver and obsidian threads, and streets filled with laughter, music, and performances depicting the twin greatest battles and triumphs.

At the heart of it all, Sigvard's stood atop the grand balcony of the palace, grinning as he looked down at the festivities. "Ah how they adore us", he mused, swirling a goblet filled with Saturn finest fermented nectar. "A festival held in our honor! I must say, dear brother, its only fitting for beings of our stature."

Beside him, Valdrik's leaned againts the railing, arm crossed, his expression unreadable. "Its nothing more than tradition", he replied. "And a distraction from their actual duties. If they spent half as much time refining their techniques as they do setting up decoration, we wouldn't need to watch over them so often."

Sigvard scoffed. "Oh, lighten up. Even you must admit it's rather beautiful. Look at them - Luthren dancing in the sky, weaving constellations with their magic, Thal'vhen performing shadow duels beneath the floating lanterns."

Below, the Luthren twirled with radiant ribbons of light, each movement leaving behind a trail of golden dust, while the Thal'vhen warriors clashed in mock combat, their blades reflecting the violet glow of the great tree above. The festival was not only a tribute but a test of skill, a way for the realm's hunters to showcase their strength and finesse.

Valdrik's exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a moment. "They fight well", he admitted.

Sigvard's smirked. "See? You can enjoy things when you try."

Before Valdrik's could retort, the grand bell at the palace's heart tollef – a deep, resounding chime that signaled the most important event of the festival. The offering of the eternal flames.

A great pyre was lit at the base of the tree, flames of golden and deep violet intertwining, symbolizing the balance of emotions, light,and dark, the very essence of the twin existence. The Luthren and Thal'vhen leaders stepped forward, each presenting gift — ornate weapons, rare celestial gemstone, and scroll filled with praise and poetry for the the twin guardian.

Sigvard's chuckled, learning closer to Valdrik's. "Shall we bless them with our presence, dear brother?"

Valdrik's sighed but didn't protest. He knew this was as much their duty as their pleasure. The festival was not just for their people—it was a reminder of why they existed, why they protected the tree of feeling, and why, despite their endless bickering, they stood together.

With a wave of Sigvard's hand, golden light spiraled down from the sky, and with a step from Valdrik's, shadows danced in a mesmerizing rhythm. Their combined energy cascaded over the festival, a blessing upon their people.

The cheers of the Luthren and Thal'vhen echoed through the realm, voices filled with reverence and joy.

For this night, at least, all was in harmony beneath the eternal canopy.

[378clover]

The Three Great Trees and Their Realm

Across the fabric of existence , three primordial trees stand as the foundation of reality, each tree governs an essential aspect of existence - Emotion , Life & Death , Magic - ensuring that the balance of the cosmos remains intact . To prevent their overwhelming power from clashing , they exist in separate dimensions , each forming a self - contained realm.

♦The tree of feeling - the realm of emotions :

A colossal , radiant tree soaring into the sky , its golden and shadowy veins pulsating with the emotions of all living beings . This ancient tree serves as the bridge between all world , ensuring that emotions remain balanced . It influences every universe, allowing mortals to experience the natural flow of joy and sorrow , hope and despair.

• Guarded by Sigvard and Valdrik, twin spirits of light and darkness, created by the primordial goddes Nim . They act as the eternal keepers of balance.

•Nim , the primordial goddes, lies in deep slumber within the tree, having used all her strength to create Sigvard and Valdrik along with the tree itself.

•If this tree were to fall , the world would be thrown into emotional chaos - either an endless void of despair or an overwhelming flood of uncontrolled joy .

• Guardian do not interfree with mortal world directly, as doing so could destabilize reality. However they can guide their chosen people to enact change.

•Sigvard has many chosen ones, as he actively seeks to help, while Valdrik has only a few , seeing the task as bothersome.

♦The Tree Of Life & Death - The realm of the departed

A vast, spectral tree with silver and black leaves, rooted in the very fabric of fate . It stands within the void between existence and the afterlife , ensuring that the cycle of souls continues unbroken.

•Ruled by Morvyn, the God of Death who ensures that all souls return to the cycle when their time comes.

•The tree holds the balance between life and death - if it where to be harmed , the dead my never pass on , or worse , death itself could become meaningless .

•The realm beneath the tree is a shifting expanse where lost soul wander before being guided to their proper rest.

•Morvyn is not cruel nor kind ; he simply enforces the natural order, unmoved by mortal fears.

•Life bloom even in death - some lost souls are reborn through the tree's essence, continuing the eternal cycle of existence.

♦The Tree of Arcana - The realm of magic

A magnificent tree akin to Yggdrasil , with branches weaving through the stars, glowing with ancient runes and pulsating with arcane energy . This tree is the source of all magic across dimensions , its roots spreading knowledge and power to those capable of wielding it.

•Ruled by Syltharia, the Goddes of magic , who resides deep within the towering city of eternal wisdom, hidden beneath the trees roots.

•She is served by the Immortal elves , scholars and mages who have transcended mortality to become eternal keepers of knowledge.

•If this tree were to be harmed , magic itself would spiral into chaos - spells would break, reality would fracture , and knowledge would be lost to oblivion.

•The city beneath the tree hold infinite libraries , celestial towers , and sanctuaries of arcane study, where only the most gifted beings may enter.

•Syltharia sees all magic as an endless river - constantly flowing , evolving , and shaping reality. Her wisdom is boundless, but her patiance with reckless mages is thin.

🔷The balance of the realms

The separation of these three dimensions ensures that no single force dominates reality. However each realm is still connected in subtle ways, and the trees influence each other despite their distance . If one were to collapse, the resulting imbalance would spread across existence, leading to disaster beyond mortal comprehension.

Thus, the guardian of each realm remain ever watchful , their duties unyielding , for the fate of all realm rest upon their eternal vigilance.

[378clover]

The Timeless Brewer

The glass bottle shimmered like a captured galaxy, deep blues and purples swirling inside as if the liquid itself held the fabric of time. Saturn, the celestial brewer, turned the bottle in his hands, watching the contents shift and swirl.

"You requested my strongest brew, Sigvard's," he said, his voice smooth and knowing. "I should warn you—it doesn't just intoxicate. It bend time itself, making second feel like eternity… or making eons vanish in a blink."

Sigvard's, every the reckless one, grinned and leaned forward against the table. "Perfect. Pour me a glass."

Valdrik's, seated beside him with his arms crossed, let out a long sigh. "You never think this through." He turned his glowing eyes toward Saturn. "Just give him the weakest one. Mortal wine is like flavored water to us, but at least that won't make him wake up a century later wondering what happened."

Saturn chuckled, amused by their bickering. "Oh, but where's the fun in that?" With an elegant motion, he poured a glass for Sigvard, the liquid thick and gleaming like liquid stars. "One sip, and you'll feel everything. The past, the future… a lifetime in a moment."

Sigvard's grabbed the cup, toasting dramatically. "To new experience!" He took a deep gulp.

And immediately, his pupils shrank. His entire body stiffened, then trembled. The colors around him blurred as time warped—he saw himself winning argument before they happened, Valdrik rolling his eyes before he even spoke, the celestial sky shifting in ways it shouldn't.

"Whoa." He blinked. "This is… weird."

Valdrik's smirked, amused. "You look like you just realized how foolish you are."

Sigvard's opened his mouth to respond—only to realize Valdrik's had already countered his argument before he even spoke.

"…Wait, what?!" Sigvard's sputtered. "Did you just—?!"

Valdrik's chuckled and took a sip of his own drink, that Saturn had silently slid toward him. Unlike Sigvard's, he remained composed. He set his glass down. And turned to Saturn. "I was hoping, it would be a lot more stronger."

Saturn raised a brow, intrigued. "You really are built differently, aren't you?"

Sigvard's, meanwhile, was staring at his own reflection in his cup, watching his past and future self overlap. "Valdrik's, I think i saw you trip down the stairs yesterday."

Valdrik's narrowed his eyes. "I did not."

"You will."

Saturn laughed as Sigvard's gasped in realization. "I see everything! Valdrik's, you owe me—"

Valdrik's grabbed the glass from his hand and downed the rest. Instantly, the effects vanished, leaving Sigvard's blinking in confusion.

"… You—HEY!"

Valdrik's wiped his mouth and set the empty cup down. "There. Problem solved."

Sigvard's groaned, while Saturn merely chuckled. "You two are always a delight. Perhaps next time, I'll let you try something even stronger."

Sigvard's grinned. "Oh, i'm holding you to that."

Valdrik's sighed. "I'm not carrying you back if you end up stuck in a time loop."

Saturn simply smiled, pouring another glass.

[378clover]

Ashes of a Dying World

The world before them was nothing but a hollow shell of what it once was. Where vibrant cities and green fields had flourished, there was now only smoldering ruins and the wind whispering the last remnants of a forgotten people. The earth beneath their feet was cracked and barren, and the skies, once filled with the laughter of life, were now suffocating with smoke and ash.

Sigvard's stood still, the only sign of emotion on his face the subtle furrow of his brow. His posture was rigid, like a statue frozen in place, and his gaze was distant. He did not weep, nor did he scream in fury. Instead, he simply stared, the weight of failure heavy in the silence between him and Valdrik.

"It didn't have to end like this," Sigvard murmured, his voice carrying the faintest tremor of sorrow. "I could have stopped it. I should have done something."

Valdrik's, standing several paces behind him, didn't move or speak for a long while. His figure was a dark silhouette against the smoldering backdrop of the ruined world, his eyes scanning the devastation with a calm detachment that contrasted sharply with Sigvard's quiet torment.

"You couldn't have saved them," Valdrik said, his voice cool and measured, like he had long since accepted this truth. "They were always going to destroy themselves."

Sigvard's didn't respond immediately. He merely clenched his fists at his side, the sorrow of what had been lost sinking deep into his chest, suffocating him slowly. His gaze remained fixed on the ruins below, as though he could somehow turn back time just by staring at it long enough.

"I couldn't just stand by," Sigvard finally said, his tone soft but firm. "I was given the ability to affect the world. I could've stopped the war, the disaster. I should have tried harder."

Valdrik's took a step forward, his expression unchanged. "The war was only a symptom. This world was already doomed, Sigvard. The moments hatred and fear took root in their heart, they sealed their fate."

Sigvard's jaw tightened. His eyes closed for a moment, and when he opened them again, the sorrow was still there, but his expression was more composed, more distant. "I thought… maybe I could make a difference. I always thought there was a way to help them, to prevent this. But now…" his voice trailed off, not out of emotions, but out of resignation.

Valdrik's gaze was steady. "You cannot change the course of time. You cannot save them all. We are guardians of the tree of feeling, Sigvard. Not gods of fate. We cannot alter what was meant to happen."

Sigvard's eyes drifted back to the shattered world, his sorrow palpable but unspoken. He had always believed that this world could be saved, that his role as a guardian meant more than simply watching from the sidelines. Yet now, as he gazed at the ruins, he wondered if he had been foolish. Perhaps this world had always been doomed from the star, and he was just blind to see it.

"But I could have tried harder," Sigvard murmured again, thought it was more to himself than to Valdrik's. "I could have do more. I could have made a difference, even if it was small."

Valdrik's voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. "And what would that have accomplished? A temporary halt to the inevitable? You could have intervened, but it wouldn't have changed anything in the long run. Their heart were already corrupted. They were already beyond saving."

Sigvard's didn't argue this time. He simply nodded slowly, thought his heart ached with the truth of Valdrik's words. This world had always been doomed, and no matter how much he had wanted to believe that he could save it, he couldn't escape the reality of their existence.

For a long time, neither spoke. Sigvard's stood motionless, staring at the ashes of a world that was no more, his mind a swirling storm of regret and quiet acceptance. There was no anger in him, no fury at the futility of it all. There was only the heavy, quiet sadness of knowing that he had done everything he could, but it had never been enough.

Valdrik's, still standing behind him, said nothing more. He did not offer words of comfort, nor did he try to convince Sigvard otherwise. Instead, he simply let the silence stretch between them, as if acknowledging that both of them were bound by the same immutable truth : There was nothing more to be done. This world was lost, and the only thing left was the bitter weight of sorrow.

Sigvard let out a soft, almost imperceptible sight, his breath catching slightly. "Maybe you're right," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Maybe it was always meant to end this way."

Valdrik's, thought he didn't show it, felt the weight of the words. There was something in Sigvard's sorrow that he couldn't ignore. It was the sadness of someone who still held onto the hope that something, anything, could have been different.

Before they turned to leave, Sigvard's voice broke the stillness, carrying a soft, mournful tune on the wind. His song was not loud, nor did it hold any grandeur. It was a quiet, fleeting melody—almost a whisper to the ashes of the world below.

"Beneath the stars, a world once bright"

"Now crumbles, fading into night"

"Whispers of souls long gone"

"Echo in the silence, like a song"

"The earth may fall, the skies may weep"

"But the memories in us, we keep"

"For even when worlds fade and dies"

"In the heart of the fallen, we'll never say goodbye."

The song was barely more than a breath, but in the stillness that followed, it seemed to linger in the air, as if the very wind was mourning alongside him. Sigvard's gaze remained on the wreckage below, but there was a certain peace in the quiet. He had sung for the lost, for the world that had been, and in that moments, he offered them what little he could—his memory, his sorrow, his song.

Valdrik's, didn't not speak. He simply watched as Sigvard's final note faded into the winds of the ruined world, knowing that the song, like the world, would soon be nothing more than a whisper in the past.

The two guardians turned away, leaving the world to it's inevitable end, and walked silently toward the portal, the weight of countless fallen world behind them.

[378clover]

Midnight Mischief

The palace beneath the tree of feeling was silent, bathed in the soft glow of golden and deep blue light. The air shimmered with the lingering magic of dreams, and all was at peace.

Except for one restless deity.

Sigvard's lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his fingers drumming against his stomach. He had tried counting the stars outside the grand windows, rearranging his collection of mortals trinkets, even talking to the Phoenix–hare (who was not a good conversationalist).

Nothing helped.

He was bored.

And when Sigvard was bored, someone had to suffer for it.

With a slow, mischievous grin, he slipped out of his chambers and made his way to his dear brother room.

Valdrik's was fast asleep, his skeletal form draped in quilt, his crown set aside on a nearby table. His expression was peaceful—calm, even. He looked so comfortable.

A perfect target.

Sigvard's crept closer, then leaned down and whispered directly into his brother's auditory socket.

"Valdrik, wake up. The palace is under attack."

Nothing.

Sigvard's frowned. "Brother. Wake up. It's urgent."

Still nothing.

Now this was just insulting.

Sigvard's huffed before shaking the entire bedframe. "VALDRIK'S! THE TREE IS ON FIRE!"

Valdrik's shot up instantly, glowing eye–lights flaring in alarm. "WHAT?!"

Dark energy crackled in his fingertips, summoning jagged weapons from the void. He was ready for battle—until he noticed the lack of screaming. The lack of flames. The lack of anything remotely dangerous.

Just Sigvard's. Grinning like an absolute menace.

"…You." Valdrik's voice was low, deadly.

Sigvard's clasped his hands behind his back innocently. "Oh good, you're awake! I was bored."

There was a long silence.

Then, without a word, Valdrik grabbed a pillow and whacked Sigvard across the skull.

Sigvard's staggered back dramatically. "Oh! Betrayed! My own twin, turning againts me!"

Valdrik's scowled, already laying back down. "If i ever set something on fire, it will be you."

Sigvard's chuckled, plopping himself down at the foot of the bed. "Noted. But since you're awake now, let's do something fun."

"No."

"Come on, just a little late–night adventure —"

"No."

"I found some mortal snacks we can try—"

"No."

"…There's wine."

A long pause.

Valdrik's let out the heaviest sigh in existence and sat up again, rubbing his skull as if he could get rid of the headache his twin was causing. "Fine. But if you wake me like this again, I'm banishing you to the coldest part of the palace."

Sigvard's beamed. "Deal!"

And just like that, the night became far less peaceful.

[378clover]

A Quiet Lunch

Beneath the golden canopy of the tree of feeling, nestled between the intertwining roots, sat a small, secluded restaurant. It was one of the few places where Luthren and Thal'vhen could sit together without a blade drawn or a competition brewing.

Seren adjusted the silk bands around her wrist, her bow resting beside her. Across from her, Varos leaned back in his chair, absentmindedly flipping his dagger between his fingers.

The air was rich with the scent of roasted fruits and seasoned meats, a rare delicacy only found in this part of the realm. The restaurant was quiet, save for the occasional hum of a floating lanterns and the soft rustling of leaves overhead.

Seren idly stirred her drink, watching the deep amber liquid swirl. "Have you ever wondered about the realms beyond this one?" She asked suddenly.

Varos raised an eyebrow, taking a bite of his meal. "No. Why would I? This realm is all that matters. We have duty here."

Seren exhaled through her nose, resting her chin on her hand. "I know our duty. But sometimes i wonder… what do the stars look like from another world? What do their forests feel like beneath the feet ? What if there are places where the sky isn't gold and violet, but… something else?"

Varos watched her for a moment before setting down his dagger. "And what do you expect to find? A world softer than this one? You wouldn't last a day."

Seren shot him a glare. "I am perfectly capable."

Varos smirked. "Of course, you are. But we are hunters, Seren. What do you think waits for us beyond this realm? If the creatures here are so desperate to break through, do you think the world outside are safe?"

Seren sighed, pushing her food around her plate. "Maybe not. But still… I'd like to see it for myself one day."

Varos let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "If you ever do, make sure you come back in one piece. I'd hate to be stuck with incompetent Luthren in your absence."

Seren smirked, taking a sip of her drink. "You'd miss me."

Varos scoffed. "Hardly."

Yet, as they sat in companionable silence, with the world outside carrying on its eternal cycle, he wondered if perhaps— just once—he'd be willing to see what lay beyond their realm, too

[378clover]

Blooming love

Chapter : 3

After the encounter at the lake, Morvyn had every intention of leaving. And yet, when Elowen casually invited him to her home, he found himself accepting before he could think better of it.

Her dwelling was unlike any he had seen before—woven into the roots and branches of an ancient, towering tree that stretched over the lake itself. The house seemed to breathe with the forest, it's walls blending seamlessly with nature, as if it had always been part of the land. Vines bloomed with fragrant flowers, their petals fluttering in the soft night breeze, and glowing lanterns cast gentle light upon the wooden steps leading up to the entrance.

Elowen walked ahead, the loose fabric of her robe swaying around her legs as she stepped barefoot onto the smooth wooden floor. She glanced over her shoulder, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Make yourself comfortable, Morvyn. You've already seen me at my most vulnerable, haven't you?"

Morvyn ignored her teasing and followed her inside. The air was thick with the scent of wild blossom, honey, and something else—something intoxicating. He barely had a chance to take in his surroundings before she was pouring him a drink from a delicate crystal flask.

"Here", she said, handing him a cup filled with golden liquid. "Try it. It's my finest nectar."

Morvyn accepted the drink, bringing it to his lips. The taste was indescribable — sweet, floral, and rich with an almost addictive warmth that curled in his chest. He let it linger on his tounge before swallowing, his brows furrowing slightly.

"This flavor... It's unlike anything i've had before." He glanced at the cup, then back at her. "What is this made from?"

Elowen set her own cup down and leaned forward, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

"My nectar, of course."

His grip tightened slightly around the cup, his gaze flickering to her in silent scrutiny.

Elowen chuckled at his reaction, reaching out to trace a finger along the rim of his cup. "Do you want to see how i make it?"

Morvyn stilled. The air in the room grew heavier, thick with something unspoken. His composure did not falter, but Elowen, ever the observant one, noticed the way his fingers tensed slightly around the cup.

Her smile deepened, and with deliberate slowness, she reached up to untie the delicate knot at her shoulder. The fabric of her robe loosened, sliding down her arms, gliding over her skin like water.

Morvyn watched—because of course he did. How could he not?

Her robe pooled around her waist, leaving her utterly bare from the waist up. The candlelight kissed her skin, casting soft golden hues over the smooth curves of her body. Her full, perfect bosom was revealed in all it's glory, her skin glistening faintly from the warmth of the room

Elowen was in no rush. She tilted her head, feigning innocence as she cupped her own breast lightly, brushing her thumb across the supple skin. "My body produces nectar, you see," she murmured, watching him through lowered lashes. "Would you like to taste it from the source?"

Morvyn expression remained impassive, but his posture betrayed him. The rigid way he sat, the way his jaw tensed ever so slightly—it was all the confirmation she needed.

"You are insufferable," he muttered, his voice lower than before.

Elowen laughter was soft and melodic, like wind through petals. "And yet, you're still here."

She leaned in slightly, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. Her scent—flowers and something uniquely her—wrapped around him like a spell.

"Come now, Morvyn," she purred. "You've already had a taste. Would you really refuse the full experience?"

His finger twitched, but he did not move.

He could walk away.

He should walk away.

And yet....

Elowen smirked, knowing full well that he was teetering on the edge of restraint.

Perhaps, just perhaps, she would be the one to finally push him over.

[378clover]

Blooming love

Chapter : 2

Morvyn had not intended to trespass. His visit to this realm had been one of duty, and audience with the ruling god of this realm. But once his obligations were met, he had allowed himself a rare moment of leisure, wandering through the vast, ancient forest that stretched beyond the marble halls of the divine citadel.

The air was thick with enchantment, the kind that whispered in the rustling leaves and shimmered in the light filtering through the dense canopy, it was only when the trees thinned and the sound of trickling water reached his ears that he realized he had stepped somewhere..... different.

The lake before him was crystalline, the surface rippling beneath the gentle caress of a hidden current. And within it, bathed in the silver light of the divine realm, was Elowen.

Morvyn froze.

She was unaware of him at first, her body moving with the water, droplets tracing the curves of her form like adoring lovers reluctant to part. Her long, red hair cascaded down her back, fiery strands clinging to her pale skin, half submerged in the moonlit pool. The water barely obscured her figure—long, shapely legs, the soft curves of her waist, the full swell of her chest, and the elegant lines of her back. The light played against her like it existed solely to worship her, catching on the delicate sheen of her wet skin.

A shift—her fingers combed through her hair, tilting her head back, and then—she went still.

Morvyn knew the exact moments she sensed his gaze. He saw the tensing of her shoulders, the slight intake of breath. Then, quick as a flicker of wind, she spun, arms instinctively crossing over her chest, eyes sharp as they sought out the intruder.

Her initial reaction was to shield herself, the slightest hint of vulnerability flashing across her features. But when her gaze locked onto Morvyn, realization dawned, and a slow, teasing smirk replaced her surprise.

"Oh? Morvyn?" Her voice was laced with amusement, a sultry lilt as she lowered her arms, the water sloshing softly around her. "What an unexpected guest. Were you hoping to catch a glimpse of something forbidden?"

Morvyn had already averted his gaze, jaw tight as he forced himself to look anywhere but at her. But Elowen was not one to let him escape so easily. She straightened, making no further attempt to conceal herself, allowing the moonlight to trace the elegant slopes and dips of her form.

"No words? How unlike you," she mused, stepping forward slightly, the water only barely covering her bare skin. "Are you flustered, Morvyn? You've seen battlefields drenched in blood, yet a simple bath has you tounge–tied?"

His hand clenched at his side. "You should cover yourself."

She tilted her head, pretending to consider. "Should I? But you've already seen so much. What difference does it make now?"

"Elowen—"

She laughed, the sound like bells dancing on the wind. "Relax. It's only natural, isn't it? Or do you find my presence that unsettling?"

He exhaled sharply, finally daring to meet her gaze. "You are impossible."

"And you are far to serious." She leaned back, stretching her arms above her head, utterly at ease under his reluctant scrutiny. "But since you've already had your fill of the sight....perhaps you'd like to join me instead?"

Morvyn turned on his heel, walking away without another word, his strides stiff with barely restrained composure.

Elowen laughed again, calling after him, "Come now, was it really such a terrible view?"

He did not answer. But the heat in his ears betrayed him, and she, ever the observant one, certainly noticed.

[378clover]

Blooming love

Chapter : 1

The grand halls of the celestial palace gleamed under the soft radiance of the astral chandeliers. Every century, the celestial beings gathered in a feast known as the BANQUET OF CONVERGENCE, an event so sacred and significant that none could refuse its summons. It was a moment of unity, where even the most distant and aloof beings were expected to set aside their duties and bask in the fleeting splendor of celebration.

Morvyn, the ever stoic and cold guardian, had little interest in such frivolities. Yet, bound by duty, he arrived as expected, his towering presence casting a long shadow over the polished marble floors. His dark robes, embroidered with the celestial constellations, carried the weight of his unwavering resolve. He nodded in brief acknowledgment to Sigvard's and Valdrik's, who were engaged in their usual banter near the entrance, before making his way deeper into the ballroom.

Unlike the other, who reveled in laughter and whisper of intrigue, Morvyn stood as an unmoving pillars, a silent observer amid a sea of frivolity. His cold gaze swept across the crowd, indifferent to the extravagant displays of power and beauty that unfolded before him. That was until his eyes found Elowen.

She was unlike the high ranking celestial beings that adorned themself in shimmering stardust and celestial silk. Thought she held a station above the guardians, her presence was often overlooked, much like the quiet bloom of an unnoticed flower. Her gown was simple yet elegant, reflecting her deep connection to the garden she so cherished. The subtle fragrance of celestial blossoms followed her movements, weaving into the air as she stepped forward.

"Morvyn", she greeted softly, her voice carrying the gentleness of wind through leaves.

"Elowen," he responded with a mere incline of his head. Thought his tone was as distant as ever, there was no dismissal in his words.

She smiled at his ever-composed nature before tilting her head toward the center of the ballroom, where celestial beings had begun to pair for the ceremonial dance. "You stand here as if you are an observer, but tonight is meant to be experienced, not just watched."

Morvyn gaze followed hers, landing on the dancers whose fluid movements were akin to drifting constellations. "Experience holds no purpose for me," he stated simply. "This is a gathering of formality."

Elowen chuckled, her soft amusement weaving through the air like a melody. "And yet, even formality has it's moments of grace. Would it be so burdensome to dance, even once?"

His sharp eyes met hers, searching for traces of mockery or hidden motives. He found none. Only warmth, only patience. A quiet sigh escaped his lips, nearly inaudible, but in that moments, he extended his hand.

A Flicker of surprise crossed Elowen face before she placed her delicate fingers into his palm. The contrast was stark—her warmth againt his cold, her gentleness againt his resolve. And as they stepped into the dance, the onlookers took notice. The guardian of life and death, unyielding as stone, now moving in harmony with a being so different from himself.

The dance was slow, deliberate. Morvyn led with precision, his movements diciplined and exact, while Elowen followed with an ease that softened his rigid grace. It was not passion, nor was it mere duty—it was a meeting of contrasts, a moment in which silence and warmth intertwined in an unspoken understanding.

As the music waned, Elowen looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "See? Not all experience are without purpose."

Morvyn did not reply. But as he released her hand, his finger lingered for a fraction longer than necessary before he turned away, stepping once more into solitude of his existence.

Yet, for the first time in millennia, he wondered if fate was not as unshakable as he once believed.

[378clover]

Sigvard mortal realm haul

Sigvard's strolled into the palace beneath the tree of feeling, arms laden with an assortment of object, his cloak fluttering behind him as trinkets clinked together in his grasp. His face was practically glowing with satisfaction.

Valdrik's, sitting on a cushioned chair by the grand window, lowered his book and narrowed his eyes at the absolute mess his brother was tracking in.

"... What," Valdrik drawled, voice heavy with suspicion, "is all that?"

Sigvard's grinned as he dumped everything onto the table in the glasshouse, items scattering in a glorious heap of chaos. "Souvenirs! Look at these, brother — books from scholars, Stones infused with mortal magic, and–oh, this one's my favorite—this strange mechanical device they call a 'music box'". He wound it up, and a soft, tinkling melody filled the air.

Valdrik's did not look impressed. "You were supposed to observe, not loot an entire market."

"Oh, please," Sigvard's waved him off. "I paid for these. Mostly."

Valdrik's pinched the bridge of his nose. "And the animals?" His eyes flicked toward the small cage, where a strange, feathery creature peered at them with far to much intelligence.

Sigvard's beamed. "Ah! That's a phoenix–hare! Isn't it magnificent? It regenerates it's feathers in a cycle, like a phoenix, but it hops!"

The creature sneezed, releasing a tiny ember.

Valdrik's exhaled. "You're going to set something on fire."

"Nonsense," Sigvard's said, already opening another satchel. "I also found some rare plants— this one glows in moonlight, and this little thing here can mimic voice if you whisper to it—"

Valdrik's held up a hand. "Enough. Where are you even putting all this?"

Sigvard's tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Well, i was thinking of starting a collection."

Valdrik's stared at him, then the pile, then back at him.

"...No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

"Oh, come on, dear brother! It'll be like a library, but filled with wonders!" Sigvard's spun dramatically. "Imagine it: The grand hall of mortals curiosities!"

"I am imagining it. It's giving me a headache."

Sigvard's smirked. "That just means you're thinking too hard."

Valdrik's sighed and rubbed his temples. He already knew there's was no stopping this madness. He just hoped the phoenix–hare wouldn't set the entire palace ablaze before the day was over.

[378clover]

A Soothing Soak...Or Not

The battle had drained them, leaving behind sore bones and lingering exhaustion. The monstrous invaders had been relentless, and thought the twins had driven them back, it had cost them time and effort neither wished to spare.

So now, beneath the glow of ethereal lanterns, steam rising in curling tendrils around them, Sigvard's and Valdrik's settled into the natural hot spring nestled deep within their domain. The waters shimmered with a soft, otherworldly glow, reflecting the delicate-rune like tattoos that traced their ecto bodies – ancient symbol of power and purpose.

Sigvard's, of course, was the first to slip in, dropping his cloak unceremoniously onto the stones before stepping into the warm embrace of the spring. He let out a satisfied groan, stretching his limbs as he submerged himself.

Valdrik's, ever composed, folded his arms and sighed. "Do you you always have to be so undignified?"

Sigvard's cracked one eye open and grinned. "Brother, we're naked in a hot spring. What part of dignity do you expect to maintain here?"

Valdrik's exhaled slowly before finally relenting, stepping into the water himself. The moments the warmth enveloped him, tension bled from his bones. He settled in the opposite corner, closing his eyes, letting the exhaustion melt away.

For a few blissful minutes, there was silence.

Then Sigvard's smirked. "You know..... I was considering making a dramatic entrance. Running in and diving straight into the water."

Valdrik's cracked an eye open. "If you had done that, i would have thrown you back out."

Sigvard's snickered. "You say that, but i know you'd be too tired to bother."

Valdrik's hummed in thought. "Perhaps. Or perhaps i would have simply let you suffer the consequences of your recklessness."

Sigvard's raised a brow. "Meaning?"

Valdrik's gave a slow, knowing smirk. "This spring is deep, if you had jumped in, you'd have hit the bottom—hard."

Sigvard's blinked, then let out a slow, impressed whistle. "You almost sound devious, dear brother. I like it."

Valdrik's sighed, resting his head back againt the stone. "Enjoy the silence while it lasts, Sigvard's."

Sigvard's grinned but said nothing more—for now.