In a world where there's no values besides lofty titles, Arjet loses her only one. And so begins the spiral downwards. A ride so familiar yet this time it feels so uncharted. _______________ In Arlyx, there had been only one circle who had been diligently esteemed by all. The primes. At some point though, they had evolved from being mere prominent figures to being the control panel of the country. Mostly out of fear, no one had ever bothered questioning their authority. Well that is until the first whispers had lifted the veil off of their hidden abuses and tortures, the people furiously in demand of a more fitting authority, had started a younger branch; the scions. To keep the harmony that the Primes had horridly lost they had concealed the identities of these Scions. By Masking. An ancient hex to conceal them behind the face of another. However, peace is just an illusion. Now Arjet is much older, as she begins to see Arlyx fall apart and new thorns are discovered in the ruins, she comes upon a new finding, within herself. Which she realizes is a territory she has never ventured into.