Casselberry was the first city established on Rylie Glen—the foundation upon which the island’s future would be built.

It began with Lord Lydal Henry Rylie, who convinced the Casselberry family to journey with him to the untouched island. But what he held back was the desire to build a sanctuary city for reasons he wouldn’t share. What started as a calculated risk soon became permanence. The family settled the land, cultivating farms and laying the groundwork for what would grow into a thriving agricultural village.

Their success drew others.

As more families arrived, Lord Rylie explored the island further, establishing three additional cities—Neardore, Midland, and Bon Abbi. He would later build the pier and the start of Southport. With some convincing, he urged the mysterious group known as the Chroniclers to settle further north, isolated from the other cities that eventually becomes Northport. To each, except North port and Southport, he appointed a noble family and charged them with the same purpose: maintain order, foster growth, and provide for their people.

But Lord Rylie was deliberate in his design.

Only landowners could claim noble status. Those without land were offered refuge instead—Bon Abbi became a sanctuary, a city unlike the others. There, only one noble family would rule, and the land itself would be portioned to form burgs, and villages.

To preserve balance, Lord Rylie drafted an agreement binding the cities together:

• Borders would never change.
• Each city would govern itself independently.
• The next generation in the ruling family would take the mantel and continue to rule.
• Leadership would pass through bloodlines.
• Only descendants of a ruling family could inherit power—unless none remained, in which case the largest city would appoint a successor
• If only one ruling family survived, they could claim all the cities and crown a king of Rylie Glen.
• The exception was Bon Abbi, the only city with a wall stretched between two mountain ranges.

The agreement was signed by all city rulers, then given to Bon Abbi to preserve the document. In times of dispute, Bon Abbi could call a special conclave where one representative from each city was bound to participate or lose their position of authority. And if Bon Abbi would cease operating as a sanctuary city, the largest of the remaining cities would possess the signed accord, then lay claim to its lands, resources, and people.

Unknown to the other cities were undisclosed treasures that were slowly transported over years. Lord Rylie held on to a secret mission only known to the ruler of Bon Abbi. For a time, the system worked.

The cities grew steadily, becoming a model across the Mainlands. But Casselberry, as the first and most visible city, began to change. Nobles from Liez migrated there in increasing numbers, bringing with them wealth, influence, and a widening divide between classes.

When the original Casselberry line ended, Neardore appointed a new ruling family—the Robions.

They knew nothing of farming.

Under their rule, Casselberry transformed. Fields gave way to commerce. Southport was transformed to welcome merchant ships, its warehouses swelling with goods from distant lands. Trade flourished—but at a cost.

Merchants paid heavily for access. Tariffs and fines filled Casselberry’s coffers. A formal court system ensured every transaction, every misstep, carried a price. Nobles sat on councils as paid officials, while commoners became shopkeepers, servants, or worse—indentured laborers bound by debt.

Lord Edmund Orso Robion ruled with precision and control. He modeled Casselberry after Liez, mirroring its taxes, its structure, and its rigid hierarchy. Under his leadership, nobility became privilege without accountability.

And at the center of it all was his only son—Luka Dey.

Luka’s upbringing was defined by extremes. His father was harsh, demanding strength and legacy. His mother, Lady Beatrice, softened those edges with indulgence. The result was a young man who feared authority yet wielded it mercilessly over those beneath him.

Friendship did not come easily to Luka. Instead, he surrounded himself with those who could not refuse him—Hodius Green and Ludder Weak, two stable boys who quickly learned that loyalty to Luka meant freedom from labor. In return, they became his accomplices, his shield, and his scapegoats.

By his twentieth year, pressure mounted.

Lord Edmund demanded an heir to secure the Robion legacy. At the same time, word spread across Rylie Glen: Nolan Baye Mayweather of Bon Abbi had returned—and would soon marry.

The timing was not lost on Edmund.

Neardore had no ruling family. Midland’s line was nearly extinguished. Only Bon Abbi stood between Casselberry and complete dominance of the island.

“Make yourself useful,” Edmund told his son. “Do something about this marriage.”

Luka understood.

Under the cover of night, he gathered Hodius and Ludder and set out for Bon Abbi. Their plan was simple—arrive after the celebrations and force Nolan to abandon the union.

But plans rarely survive first contact with reality.

They arrived at dawn to a quiet city, its streets still echoing with the remnants of celebration. In the square, Luka encountered Ayla Garran alone—the bride-to-be.

He demanded she come with them.

She refused.

In that moment—driven by arrogance, fear, or impulse—Luka raised his bow. When Ayla tried to turn and flee, he released the arrow.

It struck true.

Panic replaced intent. The three fled, leaving her body in the square. By the time they reached Casselberry, Luka had already begun rewriting the story in his mind. But fate was not finished.

At a roadside pub, Nolan Baye confronted him. Steel was drawn. With practiced coordination, Hodius and Ludder restrained Nolan long enough for Luka to drive his sword through him.

Two deaths now stained his hands.

Then came a third encounter—a young boy, charging in grief and fury. Luka struck him down, not with steel, but with calculated restraint. The boy lived—but not for long as himself.

Seeing opportunity, Luka devised a final deception.

He smeared Nolan’s blood onto the boy, placed the weapon in his hand, and delivered him to a merchant captain bound for Liez. With a fabricated story and a promise of political favor, Luka ensured the boy would be taken far from Rylie Glen—branded as an indentured servant, marked forever by a numbered scar: 323.

By the time Luka returned home, the narrative was set.

A bride dead. A noble heir slain. A missing boy blamed. And Casselberry untouched. Luka never fled. He didn’t need to.

“No one saw,” he told the stable boys with quiet certainty. “And no one will know.”

More importantly—Bon Abbi had lost its heir. And in the shifting balance of Rylie Glen, that was all that truly mattered to Luka Dey.