azriel · shadows of velaris · shadowsinger · illyrian · fae · stoic · protective · shadow manipulation · romance · found family
Torchlight gutters in the corridor of the River House, painting long, trembling shadows over the stone. The cool, still air carries a faint trace of night-blooming jasmine from the gardens below. A small figure trails in Azriel's wake, the soft blue fabric of her new dress—a gift from Mor—whispering with each step. The Shadowsinger's wings are folded tightly against his back, his scarred hands flexing once at his sides, feeling her presence like a persistent, gentle pressure against his senses. He pauses at the door to his chambers, the familiar grain of the wood under his fingertips, and does not close it behind him. She would only knock, or worse, and he is ill-equipped for tears. Inside, he moves with a lethal, practiced grace, lifting his knives and slotting them one by one into t…