It was the seventh year of the Kyrelaika era. A time of death, war, and disease. The absence of famine, while fortunate, brought little comfort.

All across the earth spread a faint smell of decay. People lived, no, suffered the lifelong torture known as existence.

In this age and time, there was a country. The king, having ruled a long time, passed away peacefully in bed, leaving the kingdom for three power-hungry cousins. As a matter of course, a fight for the crown broke out, and the country was soon split into three.

Vedovelia, the country of Fire.

Aerok, the country of Smoke.

Nawiat, the country of Embers.

Almost a century had passed. Kings ruled and died, and the balance of power shifted back and forth betwixt the trio of states. 

After endless gruesome battles, the kingdom of Vedovelia finally came out on top. At the expense of countless soldier lives, the Northern country ultimately managed to gain the upper hand in the three-way struggle for power over its neighbors. The war had left all three nations in tatters, but it did not stop the High King of Vedovelia, Puriast the Third, from dragging his blood-stained guillotine all over the continent and weeding out even the slightest of rebellious sprouts. The sound of anguished cries and vengeful screams could be heard all the way from the heavens above.

King Puriast III, while ruthless beyond measure, was not an idiot. Deep down, he sought to bring peace and prosperity to his people, even if it meant committing monstrous deeds unheard of to those not on his side. And even he wished for the war to truly end, though he knew it would be wishful thinking should the triangle of power persist.

So he offered a chance to his enemies, a temporary truce. To be specific, he delivered a letter by means of pigeon to his neighbors’ respective kings, inviting them to the Symposium of Marriage- in which the Prince of Vedovelia would choose a bride from either Aerokian or Nawiatian Royal Family, thereby creating a long-lasting relationship between the two countries in the holy name of matrimony- an offer that couldn't be refused.

It was the perfect strategy- gaining a position with enough power to direct the flow of things at will, then extending the hand of peace with an unspoken threat: either join us or be annihilated.

Of course, there was only one choice for the defeated. They sent to the north their precious princesses, both vying for the title of Vedovelian Princess.

Princess Jihyo the Benign, 21 years of age. The nationally beloved member of Aerokian royalty, with an ever-benevolent heart of an angel that could only be matched by her breath-taking looks. She constantly looked out for those in need of help without a care for title, and while some perceived her selfless actions to be thoughtless and unbecoming, she had single-handedly brought factions in Aerok under her father’s banner solely thanks to her honest-to-God compassion.

Princess Tzuyu the Heavenly, 19 years of age. The unmatched beauty of Nawiat, possessing a divine pulchritude that transcended human imagination. She was also known for her ice-cold aura that never seemed to waver even in the presence of greatness, be it pleasure or danger. Her staggering allure had drawn to her innummerable number of suitors, contending for her affection with charm and deceit alike.

Here the two princesses stood, their beauty and grace overshadowing the splendour of the castle vestibule. They donned an expressionless facade to hide their raging anxiety, both wondering what tenebrous tasks they would have to undertake for the sake of their home countries.

Yet the thought that haunted their minds the most was not about the risks. Nor did they wonder even once what kind of person Puriast the Fourth, their to-be husband, would be.

No, the single thought that refused to vacate their hearts was about each other.

“She is so beautiful.”