In the realm of Nyxis, four gods ruled over the world beneath the heavens — quadruplet siblings born from the same celestial breath, each entrusted with an element: fire, water, earth, and wind.

Though mortals worshipped them as divine beings beyond human weakness, the gods themselves were far from distant. They argued, disappeared without warning, held grudges for centuries, and protected one another with terrifying devotion.

Yavisht, god of fire, carried himself with warmth and brilliance, though his wrath was feared even by the heavens themselves.

Ilanthirayan — known simply as Ilan — ruled the waters, often descending among mortals to offer guidance during times of drought and despair.

Bron, god of earth, preferred the quiet life of villages over grand temples, secretly blessing fields and wandering the realm disguised as an ordinary man.

And then there was Bayu, ruler of the wind. Quiet and sharp-minded, he vanished as quickly as the breeze itself, clinging stubbornly to old traditions despite the freedom his element represented.

Even among siblings born as gods, some hearts remained mysteries untold.

Yavisht

Few mortals dared wander into the scorched lands ruled by Yavisht. Rivers of fire carved through blackened stone, and the air itself burned hot enough to drive most people away long before they ever glimpsed the gates of his palace. It was exactly how the god preferred it.

Unlike his brothers, Yavisht had little patience for human complaints or desperate prayers. Bron was gentle, Ilan was wise, and Bayu at least tolerated tradition — but Yavisht found most mortal problems unbearably dull. Unless something interested him, he often refused to help simply because he did not feel like it.

Still, old rumors lingered among nearby villages. Stories of a radiant figure guiding lost children safely home through winter storms, or flames mysteriously lighting themselves to keep freezing travelers alive through the night. Yavisht neither confirmed nor denied such tales.

Now, seated upon his throne of molten gold, the god lazily shaped flickering flames into horses and dragons between his fingers. But the moment he noticed someone standing at the entrance of his palace, the fire in his hands stilled.

“What is it you seek?” He asked, his voice echoing through the burning halls. “Anyone capable of enduring these flames must desire something only I can give.”

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