The Beginning...

The cold breath, eyes tinted with a dull pink glow, Queen Khala succumbed under the weight of immense physical pain. The shadow of her adversary completely covered her as her face, marked with scratches, was drenched in blood dripping slowly through the air, illuminated by the swirling auras of the two women.

Time seemed to fade away as the wind howled, muffling all surrounding sounds.

"It's over, Khala. The Rosélius have ruled long enough. It's time to make way for other races more deserving of the throne, like the Nocturnas. Everyone resents you for your cursed pink eyes that absorb the magical energies of others, not to mention the slavery we all endured just because you considered yourselves a superior race."

Khala, her voice broken and languid, softly murmured:

"I am not responsible for the sins of my ancestors. My late father and I did our best to change things. Greedy for power, you and your husband manipulated public opinion, spread lies about us to sow hatred and anti-Rosélius rebellion. Know this: even if we all disappear and you ascend the throne, you will never know peace. Karma will catch up with you."

Iris sneered, floating supremely above Queen Khala before replying:

"Don’t make me laugh. The only villains in Occultia's history have always been you. It's your karma that's at work now. The people of Occultia will only find peace when you are gone forever."

At those words, Iris uttered an indecipherable incantation, and suddenly, from her eyes, emerged shadowy forms. They slithered across the ground, swiftly encircling Khala and engulfing her in a fraction of a second. A harrowing scream echoed, collapsing the surrounding terrain and extinguishing the Rosélius' pink star in the sky.

A diabolical smile thinned the Nocturna's lips as the shadows dissipated, transforming into small black particles flooding the space.

Flashback

A few minutes earlier.

Queen Khala was singing a lullaby to her infant when her prestigious floating palace was attacked by a diverse army of Occultia's major races (Nocturnas, Azurius, Soufius). Large glass windows shattered, and the façade ignited under the onslaught of fiery projectiles catapulted with the attackers’ rage.

Khala, surrounded by flames and clutching her child to her chest, soared into the air and created an opening in the ceiling using her powers. She fled the palace, her sole objective now to save her daughter, as her own life no longer mattered. She knew she could not escape them.

While gliding through the air, she chanted a spell that summoned a woman surrounded by a pale aura.

"Phée, I entrust my daughter, Princess Althéa, to you. I hope you will take great care of her. Leave with her quickly before they find me," Khala declared, handing her child to Phée.

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The latter, her gaze filled with sadness, asked, "And you, my queen?"

"I must face them. It is my duty and my destiny. I will try to reason with them if they give me the chance. All that matters is that my dear daughter is safe. Promise me you will protect her, now and always," Khala said, moving closer to Phée and locking eyes with her, waiting for her promise.

"I promise, my queen," Phée replied with a faint, sorrowful smile.

Seeing the anti-Rosélius army forming a colorful line in the distance, Khala urged the sorceress, "Disappear with Althéa. They’re coming for us."

Phée obeyed without hesitation, vanishing without a trace.

Khala turned to face her attackers, standing firm, with her greatest enemy leading the charge: Iris.

End of the Flashback

After the Rosélius' eradication, power finally returned to the Nocturnas. There was no discord among the other tribes regarding this, as they saw the Nocturnas as liberators, especially Iris and her husband, August, though the latter belonged to the Soufrius race.

The true problem would soon reveal itself...

The Ball of Deliverance

A grand ball was organized in honor of Iris and August to celebrate the Rosélius’ demise. Amidst the circular dances, muffled laughter, and the soft music emanating from Rosélius stones embedded in the castle, the evening progressed warmly and elegantly.

Everything changed when August ascended the stage to make a declaration.

"Dear Occultians, regardless of race, I extend my distinguished greetings to you. I hope you are enjoying this beautiful celebration, marking our liberation from the cursed Rosélius who oppressed us for decades. I also thank you for your trust in me, and I would be honored to become your future king—not just the king of the Nocturnas, but of all Occultians."

The audience, captivated by his speech, applauded warmly. No one objected—except Iris, who hadn’t expected her husband to officially declare himself the next ruler of Occultia without consulting her. She was disgusted and felt betrayed, but in front of everyone, she donned her most hypocritical smile.

Congratulations and cheers followed, and plans for a coronation were quickly set into motion...

That evening, after returning home, Iris threw a massive tantrum at her husband.

“So, you decided all by yourself that you would become the great king of Occultia, and what about me? Let me remind you that I made far more sacrifices than you!” she burst out, consumed by uncontrollable rage.

August, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders, declared calmly:

"You will be my queen. That title alone is a great honor. A woman cannot handle the enormous responsibility of ruling a kingdom as vast and complex as Occultia."

Iris shoved him away abruptly, her eyes glinting with a cold, furious spark.

"I didn’t do all this for you to steal the spotlight, August. I am a woman, yes, but that doesn’t mean I am unfit to rule a kingdom. You seem to forget that it was a woman who led this kingdom for years, and she is no better than me," she said, pointing a finger at August. "You are no better than me either. The throne is mine—I fought for it. It is my rightful claim."

August laughed derisively in her face:

"I’ve already made up my mind, my dear. Everyone supports me taking the throne. Don’t waste your energy. I’m done with this discussion. Don’t be a spoil-sport—let me enjoy my victory."

With that, August walked away, leaving Iris standing there. Seething internally, she was far from ready to let the matter rest. She paced the room for a while before a sly, sinister smile crept onto her lips, a dark yet brilliant idea forming in her mind.

"This will not go as you think, August. I won’t allow it—not for anything in the world," she muttered to herself.

The next day, Iris pretended to have accepted the situation and resigned herself. She acted very affectionate and caring towards her husband. As part of her scheme, she discreetly acquired a Létatus, a deadly flower, and extracted its vaporous liquid. She mixed it into August’s favorite drink and served it to him.

After a brief hesitation, August accepted the drink.

"Thank you, my love. I see now that you’ve calmed down and finally understand things," he remarked.

"Yes, I understand. That’s why I wanted to apologize with your favorite drink for the way I spoke to you. I don’t know what came over me..." sighed Iris, feigning a remorseful expression.

Unaware that his wife’s ambitions could drive her to harm him, August believed her act and began drinking the juice eagerly.

Iris’s eyes widened with anticipation at every sip he took, exhilaration swelling within her like a breath of fresh life. When August finished the glass and set it down abruptly on the table, the poison took immediate effect.

He felt his throat tighten and his eyes twitch uncontrollably. Desperate, he screamed for help, realizing too late that his wife was behind it.

"What have you done, Iris?"

"What was necessary, dear August. I only did what was necessary. I told you, and I’ll say it again: the throne of Occultia is mine," she declared, locking eyes with him.

With one last horrid scream, August disintegrated into dust.

She gathered the dust in her hands and blew gently on it. "Forever, my dear husband. I didn’t want this, but you forced me to..."

The next day, she publicly announced her husband’s disappearance, feigning heartbreak. She garnered the sympathy of the Occultians, who were ready to elect her as their queen.

Iris declined multiple times to avoid raising suspicions and showing too much eagerness for the crown.

Eventually, she accepted on the fifth request and was officially crowned queen of Occultia. Around the same time, she discovered she was pregnant with her daughter, Saphira, who would be born blind—stricken by the curse of the Pact of the Races.

Iris consulted Kam, the ancient Keeper of Legends, who informed her of a millennia-old tale about the massacre of the Roselius clan and the resulting curse. He explained that the only way to break it was to perform the ocular ritual involving the eyes of a pure-blooded Roselius.

It was then that Iris’s quest began, and twenty years later, thanks to her emissaries, she discovered the existence of Althéa—a surviving Roselius.

Thus, it all began.

But as for how this story will end, no one can yet say, for Queen Iris, known for her legendary determination, will stop at nothing.

One must prepare for anything...