Layliasfield

This is not a story of clear-cut heroes or villains, nor is it a tale of moral absolutes. It is a narrative of survival amidst dire circumstances, where the power of Magecraft shapes the era and legends come to life.
In a world where myths thrive and magical forces dominate, a group of unlikely allies battles not just for glory, but for the very survival of their world and its people—because, after all, they are the ones who call it home.

The Corrupted Syndicate

The winding path leading up to it was flanked by traditional gates, each one elegantly painted in deep reds and blacks, hinting at the majestic structure awaiting them. But before continuing to their destination, something caught Mavislin's eye.

"I doubt we'll be at our best without some breakfast first. Plus, you can't function without your daily dose of caffeine," said the dragon girl, her gaze shifting towards a quaint café nestled between two bustling merchant stalls.

"We should grab something before we meet the ruler of this fine place."

A sign with hand-painted calligraphy hung above its entrance, and through the open windows, the comforting clatter of tea cups and low chatter wafted out.

The two made their way inside the café, greeted by the gentle hum of conversation and the earthy aroma of freshly brewed green tea. The interior was just as charming as the exterior, with low wooden tables and cushions for seating.

A small stone garden lay in the corner, complete with a trickling water feature and bonsai trees. They chose a corner table by the window, allowing them to take in the view of the village outside.

As they sat down, an elderly woman in a traditional kimono approached them with a warm smile. She placed a steaming pot of tea on the table, accompanied by a selection of sweet dango and matcha cakes.

"Do you happen to have coffee and toast?" asked Mattheos, earning a glare from the nice old tea lady.

But the woman quickly smiled and nodded, rushing off to get the rabbit's order.

"I don't think she likes you…" muttered Mavislin, glancing at Matt.

"It doesn't matter to me," replied the uncaring rabbit.

"So much for worrying about the people under the Viceroy's rule… Peeps here seemed to still have their heads and not dying left right and center. I dare say that they've been changed for the better," said Mavislin as she sipped her green tea.

"Hmph, if that's your lowest criterion for a peaceful rule then I think you've got to immerse yourself in better villages," retorted Mattheos as he took a sip from his hot drink.

"Please, I came from the poorest region of Valriea, where every street corner either had the dead or dying lurking. This domain is a palace."

"I honestly think you need a better life, not the one we've got going here," said Matt, looking at Mavislin with worry.

"Why would I ever want that? I don't hunger for riches or a life of comfort. Coins might bring you joy, but it's always temporary."

"What I long for is something money could never buy—the thrill of seeing the world in all its raw, unfiltered forms, whether it's at its most wretched or at its most glorious."

"The memories made from wandering unknown lands, facing challenges head-on, and crossing paths with rivals worthy of a real fight—that's what truly matters to me. To give all that up just for a throne?"

Ancient Cafe, Peace Times