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ONE CAN ALWAYS RECOGNISE SOMEONE OF HOUSE SALEM. The familiar emerald green background, with an ebony panther embellishing the front made it so that the biggest house on the Obsidian Isles was always identifiable.
Many were intimidated by the dark shadows cast by the island, with its dark waters and towering buildings―one would assume it a place of horror; but no. If you stayed long enough to see the many frequent storms through, you'd know that not all was as it seemed on the Obsidian Isles. Tranquil, oceanic hues drifting from Dorne replaced dark, onyx waters, and sometimes, although rarely, the sun shone down upon the cities with such rays of heat, it glistened in all its stony glory with iridescent jewels of Tahitian Pearl and dreary black opal. The House of Salem itself was a wonder―fountains of deep ebony, gleaming in shallow sunlight with flowing waters of cerulean swirling around with determined joy; dewy green grass matching the emerald shade of the well-known sigil. Many considered the Obsidian Isles the darkest depths of Dorne; the island cast apart for its corrupting darkness seeping through the earth with catastrophic intensity―but, as a matter of fact, the Obsidian Isles was one of the most beautiful places in the Seven Kingdoms.
The Salem's themselves were wonders. As the phrase goes, "there was never a bad Salem in the history of Salem's" and that held true. The Salem's were known for their deep-seeded kindness and never-ending battle for what was right; being a Salem meant being a panther―sleek black fur with bottomless eyes, a predator. The Salem's looks, though not as well-known as the Targaryen's, were beautiful―shadowy chestnut eyes filled with liquescent obsidian; flowy chocolate locks darkened with the Isle's own sea, and polished, dark skin of tan marble with plump, beautiful lips hiding secrets that could bring down civilisations. The Salem's were simple and bashful in their looks; although seeing a Salem was a rare occurrence, since the Isle was one of peace, and hardly anyone ever felt need or reason to leave the paradise of the Obsidian Isles.
THEIR MOTTO WAS "Death seeks what life creates", and it was true; so much had been taken from the Salem's, past and present. No house held more tragedy than the one on the island of obsidian loneliness. Yes, there was never a bad Salem; but there certainly were grey ones. Anger blurred the lines of morality constantly for their house, and anyone who angered a Salem was as good as dead. Their was some pride held in being known as the kindest and most honest house of the Seven Kingdoms; but a constant fear lay beneath―hushed whispers and quiet utterances of betrayal seeded deep within the house; an unshakeable, guttural feeling of despise and despicable hunger―the Salem's were blind to the idea of betrayal from their own people, and that would be their downfall; for who could a Panther truly trust other than themselves?
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