Chapter 4

The Mascara POV

Scene: Throne Hall of Impire Tria’ling – Crimson and Gold-lit, Heavy with Power

Princess Selina (seated on her obsidian throne, toying with a blood-red ring).

I am Selina—Princess of Impire Tria’ling… the empire that crushed the Tribunal’s Caril.

Tsk. Pathetic wizards. Weak little knights. Hah! They fell like ashes in the wind.

And now… now we prepare for a delightful little war.

(smirking)

We’ll storm Krymia-Chalseo, tear through their forces, and slowly—deliciously—end them, one scream at a time. Let the massacre begin.

Apilong (her Dama): (entering, kneeling) Your Highness… Prince Ton has arrived. He wishes to speak with you.

Princess Selina: (scoffs, rolling her eyes) For what?! What does that silly idiot want now, Apilong?

Apilong: (cautiously) He… requests counsel regarding the attack on Krymia-Chalseo, Princess.

[Selina rises, her gown trailing behind her like blood on marble. She walks across the red carpet toward the throne room doors. Just before she exits...]

Apilong suddenly collapses—eyes wide, body stiff, her soul drained in an instant.

[Gasps fill the chamber. Soldiers freeze. All eyes are on Selina.]

Soldier (whispering): She… she stole her soul…

[Selina turns slowly, amused by the fear.]

Princess Selina: (wicked smile) Oops. Looks like Apilong was weaker than I thought. Guess loyalty doesn’t mean immunity.

Prince Ton: (enters, furious, fists clenched) Grrr!! How dare you kill my brother?!”

Princess Selina: (laughing coldly) Aww… my condolences. But your brother was a weak, idiotic little barbarian. Hardly worth mourning. Silly Prince.

Prince Ton: (grits his teeth, ignoring the insult) Enough games. Are you ready to attack Krymia-Chalseo?

Princess Selina: (eyes gleaming with madness) Yes.

The more wizards and knights we kill… the happier I become. Ha… Ha… Ha… HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

(her laugh echoes through the halls like a curse)

This is Malselõ—the half-brother of Prince Ton.

A warrior of the wind. A barbarian by blood.

Prince Ton loves his brother deeply.

But love means nothing in their clan.

Their father, King Madroma, once said:

> “When one of you dies—show no mercy.

Don’t mourn. Don’t grieve.

Because in our clan… the dead are weak.

And the weak are useless.”

Malselõ is the older of the two.

Born of the Great Wind Tribe of Canselõn,

he carries the blood of his mother—a fierce barbarian queen.

His mother was no ordinary woman.

She was Liyãrie—Queen of the Wind Tribe. Graceful. Unbreakable. Untouched by fear.

She was the perfect queen.

But fate played its cruel hand.

GrandKing Tosmoro, father of Madroma,

saw Liyãrie’s beauty, her power, and decided:

> “She will marry my son.”

And so it was. Liyãrie was bound to Madroma by royal command.

Their union was cold. Unchosen.

But from that storm… Malselõ was born.

A barbarian prince.

A child of wind and war.

A soul trapped between love and legacy…

In a world ruled by wizards—and torn by blood.

This is Queen Liyãrie, Queen of the Wind Tribe. A Perfect Queen and also Perfect Women and Willing to Defend the Tribe.

This is King Madroma, King of all Darkness and Willimg to Kill and Occupy the Tribe just for Pleasure of His Pope King.

...No matter how different the views and states of their status nothing can stop their love....

TO BE CONTINUED.... STORY OF LIYÃRIE AND KING MADROMA.

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