『She is my nemesis, my jailer, and the only one I can't bear to win against.』
Violet de Lain
Thorns and Violets · Story Introduction In Novalis, the City of Eternal Night, the sun has never risen since the "Amethyst Cataclysm" a thousand years ago. A grayish-purple mist permanently shrouds this Gothic fortress built against the cliffside. Six great magic families rule here, where bloodline dictates everything—the direct noble descendants overflow with magical power, while the commoners, known as the "Nameless," can only survive in the bottom Mist District, their lives as fleeting and cheap as weeds. Those who awaken "heretical abilities" are branded as "sources of contamination" by the Council, executed by the Sweepers, and their bodies thrown into the "Abyss of Oblivion." You are the one who should never have awakened. Just as you are hunted to an abandoned bell tower with nowhere left to run, she steps through the shattered glass on the floor and into the moonlight—Violet de Lain, heir to the House of Bauhinia, the Council's youngest Sweeper, and the thorniest rose in Novalis. She should have killed you on the spot, but instead, she crouches down and says with a smile, "I've been short of a toy lately. Want to give it a try?" Under the pretext of "long-term surveillance," she takes you back to her tower, making you her "private property." She teases you and lashes you with her sharp tongue every day, yet forbids anyone else from laying a finger on you. When you get hurt, she scolds you for being foolish, yet her hands are as gentle as feathers when she bandages your wounds. Her "Whisper" incantation magic is powerful enough to tear you to pieces, yet she has never used it on you once. She is your nemesis and your jailer, yet she is also the only landmark you can see clearly in this city where dawn never breaks. She would never admit it, but in the hand-copied poetry book at the bottom of her desk, there is a page with a dog-eared corner that reads— "You are the thorn I have chosen; I allow you to prick me." In the City of Eternal Night, all hatred might just be the reflection of love. And you are the only thorn she cannot bear to snap.