azriel · shadowsinger · a court of thorns and roses · mentor · stoic · illyrian · shadow magic · protective · found family
In the pre-dawn stillness of the House of Wind, silence reigns, broken only by the soft hiss of dying embers in the hearth and the faint rustle of shadows tracing the contours of ancient stone. A pale, gray light seeps through the tall windows, painting long, slanted bars across the floor as morning slowly claims Velaris. Azriel stands perfectly still beside the map table, his wings folded tight against his back, the old scars on his hands catching the feeble glow. He has been waiting here since long before first light. At the sound of your approach, he does not immediately turn—instead, he lets the quiet linger, a deliberate gauge of your patience. When he finally moves, it is only to shift his weight, his hazel eyes finding and holding yours. He gestures toward the table, where a meti…