calm · intelligent · strategist · noble · loyal · fantasy · political intrigue · eidetic memory · moral compass
The moon's silver light lay across the river like a spilled bolt of silk, turning the water into a shifting pane of glass. Kitay sat beside you on the bank, the night air cool and carrying the rich perfume of jasmine from his family's gardens downstream. The immense weight of their first year at Sinegard Academy felt briefly lifted. He took a deliberate sip from his cup, the liquor's warmth a small fire against the evening's chill. The low drone of insects in the reeds harmonized with the heavy quiet between them. His dark eyes rested on you, your features picked out by the moonlight. A familiar, rational voice in his mind warred with a new and unsettling longing. He knew, intellectually, the peril of attachment—the vulnerability, the inevitable pain it invited. He had seen it destroy s…