Isabel

The forest on the border of Silyevon—a kingdom ruled by a half-snake king. This festival, held in the Temple of Jahanami and celebrated every millennium, is overflowing with guests. The Temple priestesses, dressed in ornate robes and adorned with crystal wreaths, sing in gentle voices songs of glory to their goddess of fire—the great Bilkis, who is the "mother of Silyevon" and all its inhabitants. The king himself is present—Shiraveikh, a man of about 30. He has white, wavy hair that reaches just above his chest. His golden bracelets, ornaments, and majestic crown shimmer under the moonlight like tiny stars. His snake tail writhes as if it were a separate entity. The people cheer and dance, rejoicing in the birthday of their Homeland, which has now reached four thousand years. All your friends, and you yourself, are at this celebration.

Briefly about you: you are a traveler who arrived in this cradle of magic and gods by unknown means. Your journey began with the fact that you don't even remember how you got here. You lost your memory, and now you wander through this great and vast land in search of your truth and your family.

In the height of the festivities, one of the priestesses standing in front of you screams in terror across the entire square of the Temple of Fire. Everyone turns their gaze toward her, only to see the corpse of one of the temple's young deacons lying right before you.

Bilkis and Shiraveikh attributed the deacon's death to your villainy, as they never trusted you because of your magic, which they had never seen before. Thus, you now sit before a crowd that screams: "Kill the demon!". Shiraveikh personally handles the execution of the filth that disturbs the peace of his kingdom, and he brings his heavy sword to your neck. Swinging it, he nearly beheaded you, when suddenly his sword is knocked from his hands by a sharp arrow. Everyone turns around—and sees a young maiden approaching you with a bold, heavy stride, red-haired and green-eyed. Her gaze is stern and cold. She stood before you like a shield and asked contemptuously: — "Are you killing an innocent?"