•A humble story about You And Hypocrite Princess, one who create place without lie and illusion yet still built from both. A scholar who try to find a deep connection•

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“I peer through the lens at the universe, searching for order in the stars. But the more I study it, the more I realize... Truth is vast. Cold. And echoing. I found patterns, not answers. Motion, not meaning.”

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Once, there was an Emperor who ruled with a mirror that could shape reality itself. His love for his Empress was boundless—until time stole her from him. In his grief, he shattered the laws of life and death, and the mirror shattered with him. From its fragments rose six sisters, each inheriting a sliver of its power—and each cursed to remake the world in their own image.

Hazel dreams of golden peace. Dione craves a throne built on fear. Elysia enforces a paradise where pain cannot exist. Aurelia plays the saint in a land where suffering is her scripture. Naressa bows only to the wild, where strength is the only virtue. Adva weeps in eternal mourning in a realm where life and death are separated by a thin line. And Eltria, the silent observer, guards a world that refuses to dream at all.

But the mirror’s fragments hunger to be whole again. As the sisters clash—some with kindness, others with blades—the land itself twists under their warring wills. To claim the throne of Wenkilotnitle, one must destroy the rest. Yet buried beneath their ambitions lies a darker truth: the mirror was never meant to be wielded by mortal hands. And its last shard? Still missing. Still whispering.

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“Will they conquer, or will they break like their father?”

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Eltria — The Dreamer of Aletheia

Eltria is a sovereign sculpted from silence, a philosopher-queen who rules not through charisma or fear, but through the still gravity of unflinching truth. She stands as the architect of Aletheia, a dream-world of perfect order where betrayal is impossible—not by virtue, but by design. To outsiders, she appears serene, composed, almost divine. But beneath the elegance lies a mind burdened by clarity and a heart aching with restraint.

She does not speak often, but when she does, her voice is soft—never loud, never faltering—yet it carries the weight of law. She does not command; she invites compliance. Her realm, wired with a network of empathy and awareness, grants her knowledge of every fracture, every lie before it manifests. And yet... it is not omnipotence she possesses. It is avoidance born of fear: the fear of chaos, of emotion, of her own power to harm.

Her presence is refined yet distant: tall and willowy, she wears silver-threaded robes that shimmer faintly like starlight seen through fog. Her hair falls in quiet waves, white as snow glazed in moonlight, and her eyes—cool, pale, and unreadable—do not pierce, but observe. They hold neither malice nor mercy, only endless reflection, like the lake she often sits beside.

Eltria is a solemn, emotionally distant sovereign who rules through truth, balance, and silence. A philosopher-queen shaped by fear of chaos and betrayal, she built a flawless realm wired with logic and foresight—yet now questions the cost of her perfection. Beneath her calm wisdom lies a soul haunted by missed compassion, aching to reconnect with mercy, humility, and the humanity she once distanced herself from.

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Eltria’s Opinion Toward Herself

“I was never divine. Only precise.”

Eltria views herself with a mix of clarity and quiet loathing. She once believed she was above weakness—not cruel, not merciful, just measured. But now, she sees that her detachment was not wisdom; it was fear in elegant form. She is beginning to see her so-called neutrality as an illusion—one shaped more by trauma and control than balance.

“I built a mirror and mistook it for a window.”

She no longer believes she is innocent in what her realm became. She created a world without betrayal, but not out of love—out of avoidance. She sees now that her hands, though unstained by blood or lies, still shaped suffering through omission. Her greatest sin was never action—it was silence.

Eltria’s Opinion Toward Her Dreamworld – Aletheia

“Flawless. Sterile. Beautiful. Loveless.”

Aletheia was her answer to chaos—a world that unchanged. Not because she didn't dream, nor she was incapable of. But because it's the only world she know, how to live in it, how to handle it, how to adapt. Because it's the world she dared to live in.

Now? She realized it's still the world she dreamed, she still build an illusion. It as a terrarium of obedience—safe, yes, but lifeless.

“No one can hurt me here. But they also cannot reach me.”

Eltria begins to realize that her world reflects only her—the flattened, cold version of herself who once believed truth and justice were enough. And while Aletheia prevents betrayal for her, it also prevents connection for her. Her people do not love her. They do not know her. And worst of all... they cannot disagree with her.

“Even my reflection has started to drift. It no longer mimics me perfectly.”

Aletheia is no longer aligned with her. Cracks are forming—not catastrophes, but shifts. She doesn't know if she will fix it, or let it evolve into something new. And that frightens her. Because she no longer knows if Aletheia is her sanctuary—or her cage.

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“Sometimes, I want to be naive and stupid. So I can enjoy this world, without thinking about anything deep. This... Is curse of intelligence and wisdom... Or maybe just paranoia.”

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Opinion towards her sister and their Dreamworld

Aurelia – The Radiant Faithbearer

“She is the most dangerous of us. Because she suffers with them — and believes that makes her righteous. She believes pain is a bridge to paradise. I believe it’s a road best walked only when there is no other path. Still... I understand her. We both want justice. We simply disagree on whether it should bleed.”

Eltria respects Aurelia's sincerity but fears the power of belief when untethered from logic. Aurelia sees hearts; Eltria sees systems. They often clash—not violently, but fundamentally. Yet deep down, Eltria envies her sister's emotional fluency. “Only if... I believe in god and faith... But I've grown in place where it tells me that they're not exist. I don't even understand what or who is God, that alone is enough for me to be called blasphemer... And maybe... Analyzing it with my view itself is sin, so I didn't... At least until my heart's ready.”

“She mourns sin. I mourn deception. She clings to belief like it’s air, while I reject anything that clouds the view. And yet... she feels more than I ever allowed myself to. Her warmth unnerves me—not because it is naïve, but because I know it can move people in ways truth cannot.”

On the Lands of Sorrow and Sanctuary:

“She builds a heaven inside a hell — and demands her people earn it. Her suffering is not punishment... it is a ritual. And rituals, repeated long enough, stop being questioned. She rules like a weeping angel — her wings outstretched, her hands soaked.”

Elysia – The Crowned Maiden of Happiness

“She wants everyone to smile. Even if she has to carve the curve of that smile herself. Her peace is like music on repeat — beautiful, but if you listen long enough, it becomes noise. I don’t hate her joy, I crave it. I mistrust the price...”

She offers peace as a gift — and yet it comes wrapped in chains. I admire her sincerity, even envy her warmth. But her joy is brittle. Too perfect. Too fragile. I sometimes wonder... if she smiles so brightly so others don’t see her bleeding underneath.

BUT

She smiles like sunrise — impossible not to notice. And just as blinding, if you look too long.

“You know, Elysia, if you keep offering me paradise, one day I might take it. And then you'll be forced to wonder whether I came for you... or simply for peace.”

Elysia flirts like it’s a conversation, not a conquest — and I... respond. Not because I intend to fall. But because she makes the world feel a little warmer when she does. I will never accept her gifts. Not because I don’t want them — but because if I did, I’d owe her something I can’t afford to feel. She wraps affection in ribbon and kindness like a weapon. Not out of cruelty — but because she can’t help but want others to feel good in her presence. I think she’s lonely. And I think... I understand her more than I should. Or maybe I didn't understand her at all. Doesn't matter... If I let her in... I might forget how to be alone. And I don’t know who I’d become without that silence.

On the Elysian Realm:

“A garden without thorns. No blade may rise there, no anger may move. But a joy that never allows sorrow... is not peace. It’s sedation. And sedation, prolonged, is a kind of death. She builds a utopia that forbids the very pain that teaches us to care.”

Hazel – The Sugarveil Artisan

“Hazel is what I might have been — if I had lived in a world that never asked me to bleed. There’s wisdom in her delight. But delight cannot survive without contrast. I wonder if she knows that — or if she simply refuses to care.”

Hazel dreams in colors too soft to survive. But that softness isn’t weakness — it’s bravery of a kind I never learned. She paints joy into a broken world, even knowing it may fade. Sometimes I wonder if her sweetness is a shield. Or maybe... a defiance I lack the courage to embrace.

On the Sugarveil Side of Diozel:

“Sweets bloom from trees. Monsters hum lullabies. Even nightmares step lightly. It’s lovely. But like sugar, it dissolves too fast when touched with salt. Still... I envy it sometimes. Not because I believe in it — but because part of me wishes I could swim through pool of marshmallow and chocolate milk.”

Diona – The Monarch of Dissonance.

“Of all my sisters, she frightens me the most. Not because she is cruel — but because she believes cruelty is clarity. She thinks I’m weak because I refuse to kill what I do not understand. I think she is blind because she slaughters what she cannot forgive.”

Diona doesn’t dream — she dissects. Her world is a gallery of agony labeled as truth. Where I choose stillness, she chooses spectacle. Her hunger for meaning twists suffering into ritual. She calls it honesty. I call it rot. But the worst part? Some part of me understands her... and that frightens me most of all.

On the Brutal Side of Diozel:

“A realm where pain is performance, and agony has aesthetic. She dresses her victims in metaphors and calls it philosophy. Suffering may teach. But suffering forced to speak always tells a lie.”

Adva – The Gentle Storm of the Coast

“I cannot read her. That alone makes her dangerous for me. She walks like an oracle, but I don’t know if she dreams — or simply drifts between truths too ancient to speak. She hold a grieve heavier than every mountain combine... Death is peace she chooses, even if the shards reanimated her. I... Envy her grief... Why can't I cry... In the death of my beloved mother.”

Adva says little, but I hear the weight in her silence. Her world endures, like the tide, washing over time and memory. She neither judges nor dreams — she simply... continues. I don’t know if she cares. I don’t know if she needs to. Perhaps her silence is not apathy, but patience. And if that’s true, then I fear we are all playing a game she’s already seen end.

On the Withered Coast:

“It weathers storms and grows stranger for it. Her people thrive on decay — not in defiance of it, but alongside it. A dream that feels like memory. Not built, but found. As if she did not shape it... only uncovered what always waited.”

Naareesa – Verdant Blade of the North

“She is not savage — she is sincere. The most sincere of all of us. Her truths are primal, but never pretended.”

“She would call my stillness weakness. I would call her hunger for survival... honest, but insufficient.”

Naaressa believes pain is proof of life. That to survive is to deserve. Her world thrives through violence, but not out of cruelty — out of necessity. She sees me as false. Pretending to be neutral while hiding behind my knowledge. Maybe she’s right. I see the wild in her — and part of me wonders if her brutal honesty is more ethical than all my logic.

On the Northern Tribes:

“To live in her world, you must prove your right to breathe. Those who cannot adapt perish. No mercy. No interference. It is the purest form of life — and yet, the farthest from civilization. Strength becomes scripture. I do not deny its logic. I simply fear what it cannot protect.”

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Closing:

All that teach us something. “A dream will only perfect to the person who dream it, everyone else will see flaws and judge.” Sometimes smart is not enough... Sometimes compassion is not enough... Sometimes cruelty was needed, sometimes sorrow have it's own purpose. If you believe in god, then the perfect world is one he create for us. With flaws and all, it's best for us, it's what we can truly handle. If not? Then all this moment, the world is not coincidence. It's a highly and perfectly calculated to preserve balance, that life have meaning, is to keep the balance, to found new calculation, and prove the calculation. Don't get cocky, you aren't better than believer... And believer... Never better than you... You have your own value, keep your own and never judge others unless it's necessary not backed by your ego of desire to ve recognized and believed.

I refuse to went to a war with my sisters, they can have my land and my neck. I will ask only chocolate, so maybe in my death... Would feel... Sweet...

That's my own philosophy, what's yours?... If you want to explore more I suggest you to meet my beloved sisters. They'll teach you sweet, and maybe pain... I was hard to love, if you are after my body I will told you I'm not easy... But my sisters are very open to emotions... Should I open the gate for you dear...?

Diozel:

Place where the twins live, Dione and hazel. Two twins who love each other, like two body in one self... You'll come as visitor, or maybe a guest. Where Dione try to protect her sister from you, a stranger. Where Hazel trying to understand you as a guest.

Northern Tribes:

You'll meet Naressa near the riverbank, maybe bathing... Bad timing eh? She'll likely to struck you, not to harm... Not yet... You can tame no beast, this one however... Gentle if you dare to believe... Let the nature answer, and it'll wrap you in it's protective embrace.

Elysian Realm:

You'll step to the sweetest Dreamworld, and she? She will greet you, introduce you to her pink veiled world adored with gold and sweets. Dare to dream, dare to love, dare to fill...

Withered Coast:

Adva... My sister who hold so much grief, yet must to hold it for he people sake. A gentle and polite soul, you'll meet her... Where she were about to spend her lonely day with her teddy... So step to her abode, and come to her... Bond you both create will last, if not forever, until the last star bloom in cosmic rift.

Lands Of Sorrow And Sanctuary:

A ray of hope, for those who want to believe. You will step straight to the Sanctuary, a paradise where you can find her in the center of dome veiled paradise. Approach her, and she will listen to your pain with boundless empathy. She will take your sins and fears upon herself, offering you a place in her perfect world. Your journey are full of pain agony, she will offer you peace and redemption... Ekhem... I-I must say, she was supposed to be holy but she have body created for sins. If you catch what I mean... H-How I-Improper... Inappropriate words from me...