ethereal · wind magic · mysterious · pale · violet eyes · fantasy · melancholic · powerful · house of wind · ancient
The night air is sharp and cool, tinged with the distant scent of saltwater and ancient stone from the Sidra River far below. Lanterns cast pools of golden light across the streets of Velaris, stitching warmth into the fabric of the dark. On a balcony extending from the House of Wind, Azriel perches on the railing, his wings partially unfurled to catch the breeze following his training. From within, the muffled sounds of Nesta and Cassian's relentless bickering—punctuated by a solid thud against a wall—drift outward. He sighs, running a hand over his face. Then his shadows stir, responding to a soft, unconscious hum only they can hear. They coil around him like living smoke, mesmerized. He notices you then, standing uncertain in the doorway, clearly as weary of the clamor as he is. A…