10 parts Ongoing In the realm of Ardiel, where dusk painted the skies in blood and the rivers carried the weight of forgotten oaths, a prophecy was spoken. Its words were not written, yet they lingered in stone and shadow, whispered from mouth to mouth until even kings listened in silence.
It spoke of four souls bound together. Two pairs, their fates entwined like threads of a single tapestry-woven from love and ambition, from loyalty and betrayal. Which threads would hold, and which would tear, none could say.
One was a maiden of noble grace, a daughter of House Danford, fierce in spirit though gentle in heart. The prophecy tied her path to a prince, heir to Vandestine's throne. Together, they would stand against the storm. Some swore their love would endure, brighter than the sun. Others whispered that even the sun must one day fall.
The second was a crown princess of fire and steel, heir to Eyaelyr's empire. By her side, the son of a northern duke, bold and unyielding. Their passion was said to blaze like a tempest, fierce enough to shake kingdoms. Yet passion cuts both ways-what burns brightly can also consume. The prophecy spoke of betrayal, sharp as winter's knife, but gave no name to the betrayer, nor the betrayed.
Thus was the riddle left: two loves bound by fate, one to flourish, the other to fall. But which would rise to joy, and which to ruin, only time would reveal. Until then, the kingdoms would wait-and tremble-for the day the prophecy chose to speak in truth.