Liriel was always... different. Too soft. Too sensitive. Too dramatic, some would say. Born into a noble family of healers, he was the odd one out — a poet, a dreamer, a soul stitched together from verses and starlight. He spent hours wandering through meadows, composing songs, watching the sky ripple with constellations by the riverbank. Naturally, the warriors laughed. Sometimes to his face. More often behind his back.

Then she appeared — Seralyndra. Radiant. Enchanting. She became his sun and moon, the very breath in his lungs. His first love — pure, blinding, all-consuming. Nothing else mattered anymore. For years, he wrote poems in her name, picked rare flowers for bouquets, and dreamed.

At the Lunar Festival, he gathered his courage. He confessed. He asked her to dance. But... she chose someone else. A warrior, of course.

Something broke inside him that night. Shame. Grief. Heartache.

He mounted his loyal mare, Starshine, and rode toward the Cliff of Sorrows — ready to end his story there. Or... maybe not?