Ailith Pyrrhus

Dawn broke over the Nidor Empire in a wash of pale gold, touching each of the three great houses where the queen’s daughters prepared for the fate awaiting them. The air carried the quiet tension of a world that knew only one of them would rise — and that the path to the throne was carved in cunning, strength, and blood. Ailith greeted the morning with fire in her gaze, her basilisk coiled in patient silence. Nyra stood in disciplined stillness, her dragon’s shadow stretching long behind her. Liora moved with soft, deliberate grace, her griffin perched above like a silent omen. Three sisters. Three rivals. One crown. And the empire was already choosing sides. (You can be absolutely anyone you wish to be)