We fight with honor and loyalty for our clan,
Even if it will cost the lives of all our man.

OLD TALES OF THE SHADOW CLAN

“Scarlix was the first to exist,
the oldest among the gods.
He watched the others come into being
and guarded the lands while the world slept.
In silence he ruled, in darkness he fought,
yet even then, he was not without love.

​

The night was his sky,
and it was said to be beautiful.

​

His sister Solia saw this beauty
and grew jealous of both his power and his peace.
Quietly, she began to spread lies,
turning God after God against her own brother,
until trust shattered and war followed.
From that conflict came the fall of Sarida.

​

Scarlix was simply too powerful,
and the other gods feared what they could not control.
When they finally confronted him,
they chose exile instead of balance.
He and his followers were cast away into the dark.

​

Exile changed him.
What had once been calm grew sharp,
what had once been patient grew unyielding.
He sought strength, not for cruelty,
but to reclaim his name and his right to exist.
Those who followed him were no longer just believers,
but warriors shaped by night.

​

The Shadow Clan suffered for their faith.
They were shamed, hunted, and forced into battle
simply for believing in the god of darkness.
And when accused, they would answer:

​

“Just because you cannot see in the dark
does not mean it is destructive.
You only need to watch your steps.”

​

Their words were ignored and twisted,
but fear remained
and the clan learned to live with it,
to wear it, to wield it.

​

Under the night skies and the watchful gaze of Scarlix,
fear became strength,
darkness became shelter,
and unity became survival.”

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