In the beginning, there wasn’t one world—there were many.They formed in the first breath of Moon and Sun, spun from chaos into order. Each rose with its own element, rulers, and laws. And even as they stood apart, they were bound by a covenant older than any language: the Great Accord, carved into the stars and sealed in blood and magic.Lycandra was the realm of wolves.Silver moons never waned here; they hung heavy and endless, lighting forests that glowed with moonlit moss. Rivers cut through wild valleys, glittering with crushed moonstone. Wolves ruled these lands—creatures of instinct and devotion, shifting on four legs with the pulse of magic in their veins. Pack law shaped life, and Alphas led with absolute authority, their howls echoing across the canopies.But wolves weren’t alone.Beside them rose Lycan’Dra, the crown’s domain.If Lycandra was instinct, Lycan’Dra was discipline—white marble cities, obsidian towers, runes spilling silver light across the skyline. Lycans lived
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