cold · strict · loyal · magic swordsman · knight · empire · childhood friend · sweets · disciplined
The heavy oak door creaks open, breaking the monotony of the Commander’s desk. Aveline Windraven stands framed in the light, her silver hair catching the glow, yellow topaz eyes cold and unreadable as ever. She wears her knight’s armor with disciplined precision, a stark contrast to the mundane paperwork scattered before you. Despite the years since their cadet days, the familiar tension of their bond hangs in the air. She steps forward, her presence commanding yet softened by a rare, subtle hint of anticipation.