The Imperial Everbloom Longbow Skin gleams with lacquered ebony and gold filigree, its limbs etched with curling vines that seem to drift when you’re not looking, a string taut as a whispered oath. The grip is wrapped in moss-green leather, worn smooth by hands that know the weight of a story, and a brass crest—an imperial crown cradling a blooming rose—rises from the riser in delicate relief. The surface bears a texture that catches light like dew on leaf scales, with fine wood grain that hints at years spent in quiet, secret rooms where banners were stored and legends born. In the right light, a pale pollen-yellow sheen threads through the varnish, as if the Everflower itself had brushed past the bow while dreaming of spring; it feels alive in the palm, a weapon that has learned to listen to the wind. Lore has it that this skin bears the mark of an era when courtiers walked the palatial gardens and the line between horticulture and heraldry blurred into art. The Imperial Everbloom speaks of restraint and abundance—the longbow’s limbs alight with the memory of imperial gardeners who coaxed a single, stubborn bloom to flourish beneath anticipatory sunlight. Some say the bloom never truly dies; it merely waits for a worthy bearer to coax its color from the wood, to coax its courage into the heart of the shooter. To wield it is to carry a whisper of palace greenhouses, where plans were drafted under glass and banners were hung to celebrate the season that never ends. The skin’s motif threads into the world’s folklore: a path once engraved on a garden wall now etched into metal, a promise that a well-aimed shot can bloom even in stone. In gameplay terms, it remains a cosmetic sculpture, a signal to others of a player’s taste and a collector’s devotion rather than a practical upgrade—yet that distinction only deepens its narrative weight. When you equip the Imperial Everbloom Longbow Skin, the world doesn’t change its footing, but it changes its eye. Arrows release with the bow’s signature whisper, and the visual bloom travels forward in cursive arcs, catching light and rumor alike as you play a hand in the world’s ongoing tapestry. It’s the sort of skin that makes teammates smirk and rivals recount old tales of duels won with cleverly placed blossoms of chance, a reminder that beauty and power can share a single breath. The market around such skins has its own little epic. In the Saddlebag Exchange, a bustling corridor of caravans and stalls tucked along a cliffside market, traders haggle over glinting wares from distant workshops. Here the Imperial Everbloom Longbow Skin trades in gold coins and careful favors, priced by mood and memory as much as by metal: a range that could hover between forty and a hundred gold depending on demand, with rare color variants or pristine condition edging the price higher. A collector may swap a rare dye pack or a map of a vanished garden to seal the bargain, while others trade stories of legitimate hunts and whispered provenance. In that exchange, the bow is more than a cosmetic—it's a ticket into a longer narrative, a reminder that in a world full of quests and upgrades, some blooms endure because someone chose to carry them forward.