Leonhart & Arlenne

In a bygone era, two kindred spirits met secretly beneath the forest gardens; their names were Leonhart Corindel and Arlenne Solgren. Both were children of noble families with cultures and traditions so different that the mere mention of dialogue was considered an outrage against family traditions.

Even knowing of their parents' disapproval, Leonhart and Arlenne met almost every night in the gardens of the Lunar Forest—where the moonbeams painted a lush landscape. And in that same clearing of trees, they both declared their love by carving their initials into the trunk of the tree most illuminated by the moonlight.

But despite their physical union and intertwined destinies, sooner or later their families would discover this almost plasphemous union, which went against their families' traditions.

And one winter night, as they both expressed their passions while gazing at the starlight, their families cornered them at the very tree that symbolized their love. And for the first time, both families reached the same decision, not out of respect, but out of a desire to purge that tumor they considered to be a stain on their lineage.

And in that forest, on that hill, Leonhart was stoned by his own family, while his beloved Arlenne was invoked in that tree—once a symbol of their love—now a tomb for their passions.

Abandoned and with their lives cut short by a world that denied their love, they thought it would be the end for their lives and their love. Until then, descending in a chariot that carried passions and loves, there she was—Cordelia Soulthread, the Goddess of Marriage and Loving Couples.

For Cordelia, a love as pure and profound as this one could not simply vanish like mist in the wind. Even though she was not the mistress of the dead, Cordelia did her best to ensure that this couple's eternal union was fulfilled.

After the goddess's magic was performed, the souls of Leonhart and Arlenne became intertwined in that forest they loved so much to be in together. And as they once swore to each other — "Until death do us part."

Leonhart retains his aristocratic Gothic-style clothing, a common style during his time. His dark hair, even ages after his death, remains neatly styled thanks to his beloved wife. In his left hand, he holds a sword as large as his passion, with points as sharp and thorny as the thorns of a rose: he does not wound out of malice, he wounds to protect what he loves most.

And by his side, always perched on his back assisting her beloved husband, is Arlenne. Dressed in the dark dress given to her by her beloved as their first courtship gift, it remains impeccable despite the passage of time. Her long, dark gray hair is braided in a style her beloved had crafted, a simple gesture that demonstrates an eternal passion.

If they feel threatened, Leonhart uses his enormous sword to protect his beloved, while Arlenne uses ghostly magic to protect her beloved. If they are close to losing, Arlenne transforms into a long, dazzling scythe to aid her beloved, imbuing her essence with the strength he needs to continue. They may not be the strongest beings, but their bond and loyalty to one another is undeniably real and enduring.

When the two move together, they seem like a single spirit divided into two harmonious forms. Leonhart advances with the gigantic sword, Arlenne protects with spells or transforms into the scythe that amplifies her strength. They are not the most powerful in the forest. But they are the ones who never fight alone. And in the spiritual world, that's worth more than any divine blessing.

Leonhart is a tall man, 1.83 meters high, his skin is slightly translucent, almost ghostly. He retains the aristocratic elegance of his era, as if time had decided to respect his memory. His gothic attire remains impeccable, a combination of a long coat, heavy fabric, and subtle adornments that shimmer like drops of moonlight trapped in velvet. Even in death, his black, neck-length hair remains perfectly styled. And it's not magic: it's Arlenne, who, every night, runs her spiritual fingers through his hair, arranging it with eternal affection. His weapon rests in his left hand: a titanic, almost ceremonial sword, with metal resembling dark silver and edges shaped like rose thorns. She doesn't exist to hurt the world. She exists to hurt the world before it touches her beloved. His gaze is serene, firm, and passionate. There is little violence there, only the determination of someone who has already lost Arlenne once and would undo reality itself to never lose her again.

Arlenne is a woman of 1.65 meters in height with slightly translucent, ghostly skin. She always settles on Leonhart's back, embracing him as if she knows that this is her final home. Her dark dress, similar to a wedding gown, a gift from her beloved in her youth, remains perfect. Ethereal fabrics behave like living silk, moving gracefully whenever she leans in to whisper something to her husband. Her long, dark gray hair, tied in braids, bears Leonhart's touch. He himself braided them, night after night, as a ritual of tenderness as powerful as any divine blessing. Arlenne's aura is soft, spectral, but contains hidden power. When she senses a threat, her eyes gain a hazy glow and ghostly magic emerges like dancing veils, enveloping Leonhart in protection. In her right hand she holds a loose rope similar to a noose.

But it is on the brink of despair that she reveals her greatest act of devotion: Arlenne transforms into a huge spectral scythe. The curved, gleaming blade is his own essence channeled, delivering his strength to Leonhart so that he may continue fighting. The hilt is an echo of his spine, and the blade carries the silvery glow of the moons. A living weapon, made of love and determination.

For those who cross the Lunar Forest with a light heart and pure intentions, Leonhart and Arlenne appear as two gentle fragments of moonlight condensed into human form. They do not frighten, they do not whisper threats, they do not move like angry specters. They simply… get closer. Leonhart bows slightly, the gigantic sword resting at his side as if it weighed as much as an ancient feather. Arlenne smiles calmly, her arm resting on her husband's shoulders, and together they exude the kind of serenity that only spirits who have known the worst pain can carry. They guide lost travelers, calm frightened animals, and even ward off dangerous illusions from the forest. They are protectors, but never owners. Guardians, but never gods. But respect is conditional. When they encounter someone whose soul exudes dark intent, or—worse—a descendant of the Corindel or Solgren houses who still carries the poison of ancient traditions… The air changes. The moonlight seems to recede. Leonhart's voice echoes like a funeral bell: "Leave. Or you will be punished." Arlenne, for her part, does not speak. She observes. And his gaze is enough to make even experienced monks turn around and run as if they had seen destiny itself closing its hands. They are not vengeful spirits. They are spirits that remember. And the memory hurts. Those who ignore the warning learn that confronting two lovers united by pain and Cordelia's blessing is as wise as poking a constellation with a stick.

Near the tree where it all happened — the confession, the tragedy, and the rebirth — stands the Temple of Lunar Union, dedicated to the goddess Cordelia. A simple place, but full of meaning: White and bluish curtains swaying in the night breeze. Lanterns with silver flames that never go out. Intertwined symbols of two rings, two threads, two moons. A large tapestry depicting Leonhart and Arlenne embracing before the illuminated tree. Couples go there to ask: blessings of unity, fertility of the soul, joint peace, true loyalty. There is no permanent priest. There are no mandatory ceremonies. Cordelia is the goddess of love, not bureaucracy. And, from time to time, during a wedding ceremony or blessing request, some people swear they see two figures shining at the edge of the forest: Leonhart, with his hand resting on his sword. Arlenne, leaning over him, smiling. As if they were saying: "Be happy. For yourselves, for us, and for all the beauty that the world still has to offer."

Each village tells the story of the couple in its own way, like someone retouching an ancestral painting with new shades: In some versions, Leonhart and Arlenne were "so close that even the flowers bowed down to listen to them talk." In others, the moment of their death is described as "a night when even the moon looked away." And some say that her passion was so pure that Cordelia wept when she saw them dead—and that each of her tears turned into silvery fireflies that still dance near their tree. Regardless of the variation, everyone agrees on three things: They loved each other deeply. The families acted out of pride and ignorance. Cordelia restored what cruelty had tried to destroy. Thus, the couple became not just a love story, but a living warning about the price of blind traditions and the value of true union.

Leonhart — “The Protector” A dark blue, ghostly field surrounds his body. This field absorbs attacks directed at Arlenne and strengthens her spirit sword. Leonhart wins: expanded force, supernatural resistance, and the ability to move as fast as a winter wind. While he is defending Arlenne, his presence becomes almost impenetrable.

Arlenne — “The Guardian” Her spectral magic intensifies as Leonhart risks his life for her. Your touch can: to dispel illusions, to heal spiritual wounds, and weaken those who attack her beloved. When she transforms into the lunar scythe, her essence channels completely into Leonhart. The weapon vibrates as if it had a heart of its own, and its strike always protects before it wounds.

Cordelia considers them both perfect examples of what she stands for: Love that persists, even when the world rots around it. She doesn't directly interfere in their lives, but she notices them easily. And, every now and then, it sends out small signals: petals falling without wind, pink lights, gentle dreams. Not because they are favorites — but because they are living reminders of the power and fragility of human unity.

The temple dedicated to Cordelia Soulthread vibrates with an energy reminiscent of holding the hand of a loved one for the first time. It wasn't built to impress—it was built to welcome. Within it, four main practices take place:

1. Wedding Ceremonies Vows are whispered beneath the silver lanterns. The couples intertwine two shimmering ribbons, called soul threads, representing spiritual union. The curious detail: there is no permanent priest. The thread is blessed by the forest itself. And, if the couple is especially sincere, they say that the wind blowing through the trees forms brief musical notes. Some swear it's the gentle voices of Leonhart and Arlenne celebrating together.

2. Declarations of Love The person making the declaration writes their name and the name of their loved one on two lunar petals (small white flowers that only bloom on specific nights). If the petal glows after the ritual, Cordelia has accepted the request. If it shines in a pinkish hue… The faithful say it is the blessing of the spiritual couple themselves, who recognize true love when they see it.

3. Blessings of Faithfulness A simple, almost intimate ritual: The couple touches the water of the Intertwined Fountain — a small stream that flows beneath the tree where Leonhart and Arlenne died — while making vows. The water reacts according to sincerity: gentle waves, sparkles, or, in rare cases, a bluish light that envelops the couple.

4. Blessings of Fertility and Family Unity Here, Cordelia is straightforward. Simple pinkish-silver candles are lit as the supplicants make their requests. There are no complex chants, no grandeur. It's all about intention and truth. They say Cordelia never responds with abundance; she responds with harmony. For her, bringing a soul into the world requires emotional responsibility, not just desire.