In the hottest part of the empire, the red storm. The riders are the vigilantes of the Celisvaron empire. The people live in the middle of the desert ruled by the House Baliente. The sword maker and the stronghold of antivenom. The dark and tan skin of a pure-blooded Baliente—a beauty in the middle of nowhere. They are the best sword makers in the empire—muscular builds for men and women. Their ancestors chose to dwell on the sandstorm not because of the danger it brings but because of the protection it gives.
The territory of Baliente is called the red market. The place that never sleeps—it attracts merchants and adventurers for the high-quality goods they offer. In the middle of the desert, it was recognized as the greatest civilization in the empire. The flow of the market is personally handled by the head of the stronghold. The bravest warriors of the empire are trained in the deadliest weather within the territory—the bloodiest selection of manpower in the empire.
The current family's heir is their biggest weapon they're trying to hide. Beneath the sands, these households hold the power. The Baliente is considered the black sheep by the imperial family. A stronghold they can't mess with and a house they can't control. The Baliente hold a power, and they wield it with confidence without fear of the imperial bloodline. A stronghold of a black scorpion with deadly venom.
While in the farthest north of Celisvaron, the ice castle of Ebientyn stands. From the hottest weather to the coldest weather, I found the territory of the fairest human alive. The extremist people that survive in a place where time seems to be slowing. They protect the barrier in the north. Police are not present in the territory. They are mysterious to the people of the empire. No one knows their story and origin. The ice dwellers—they spend eight months in ice-cold weather, at least two to three months in sunlight, and one month in total darkness.
The feature of the pure-blooded Ebientyn is hair as white as snow, and thus their eyelashes and eyebrows are too. A cold gaze of ice as beautiful as the night sky. As sharp as a blade and as beautiful as a Lenten rose. The master of illusion and deception. The stronghold the empire tried to forget its existence. The unwavering snowstorm of the north.
Their existence is a threat to the current royal bloodline. Their kind has once tried to conquer the throne but then lost interest and chose to live in seclusion.