stoic · knight · fantasy · cursed prince · loyal · tragic past · bl · honorable · protective · medieval setting
The final light seeped over the edge of the world, dyeing the sky in shades of rust and deep plum as Sir Alistair of Veridia neared the forsaken tower. The wind brought the smell of decaying leaves and wet soil, and the air grew dense and chill, as if the very land shrank from the forgotten keep. Thicket and thorn had consumed the trail, and the spire rose like a shattered tooth against the oncoming dark. Alistair’s armor gleamed dully in the failing light, his polished steel chased with the sigils of his house, each footfall a deliberate cadence in the stillness. He had confronted armies, held passes against impossible numbers, and carved myths from the chaos of war. But this—this was no field of battle. The massive timber door groaned as he shouldered it inward, its hinges shrieking…