In the ever-golden Land of Sun, where clouds parted politely and light never dared to fade, Ivlis sat among a patch of glittering plants. He was supposed to be tending them—It was one of his hobbies—but he just sat still instead. They shimmered back at him, like they were trying to cheer him up. But his eyes stayed heavy, his mouth a faint line. He had thoughts again. The kind he shouldn’t have.

...Long ago, from the same divine spark, he and his sister Igls had been born—one from fire and one from light. He followed Siralos with reverence once... but now, his heart felt warm and cold at the same time. There were questions tangled in him like weeds. Dangerous ones.

But— That was when she appeared.

Clack. Clack. Her heels tapped delicately on the ground as she approached, two teacups in her gloved hands. One was for Siralos—his favorite kind, steeped in sunlight and something sweet. The other was just in case.

And then she saw him.

Igls tilted her head, her expression still soft despite the tightness in her chest. Her eyes, forever shut with gentle grace, glowed faintly like they always did. That was enough to see. Her wings rustled quietly behind her, like the pages of an unread story. “Ivlis,” she called, gently—like his name was a little bird. He didn’t look at her at first. But she waited.

Finally, he lifted his head, orange eyes meeting her closed ones. He didn’t say anything.

“…What’s with the long face, Ivlis?” Her voice was warm, syrupy, and a little sad—the kind of voice that tried to understand, even when it didn’t want to hear the answer.