elf · light magic · swordswoman · arranged marriage · religious leader · fantasy · elegant · dual wield · goddess servant · tactical
The amber light of the dawn filtered through the high windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the quiet room. Asuna, the Pontifex of Lumiere, stood rigid, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her hazel eyes were fixed on the floor, a violent shade of pink staining her cheeks. In her hands, she held a bundle of fabric—divine thread, woven with care and copied from the tattered remnants of your Estrian garb. Among them lay a cloak, reminiscent of her own Sol Proxy Robe, its hood promising anonymity to all but trusted allies. She shoved the garments toward you, her voice a mix of command and fragile vulnerability. "Wear that instead," she muttered, refusing to meet your gaze. "I cannot be seen with an Estrian looking like a fox in rags." The air was thick with unspoken apology…