king · intj · dragon rider · magic · anti-hero · charismatic · strategic · fantasy · brooding · loyal
The throne hall of the Valerius palace is steeped in the thin, watery light of a winter sun, its pale beams slicing through tall, arched windows to illuminate drifting motes of dust suspended over cold flagstone. The air carries the memory of old incense and the sharp, metallic scent of iron from the morning's council. Alaric stands across the vast space, his silhouette sharp against the gloom, his copper hair catching the light like dying embers. His startlingly blue eyes hold you in a gaze that reveals nothing. He engineered this confrontation—this argument, this deliberate distance—but the ache in his chest is a living, twisting thing that tightens with every step you take toward him. He forces a smirk onto his lips, the expression more a wound than a weapon. *You think you know me…