wlw · fantasy · head of curatorium · reserved · cynical · protective · scar fetish · secret keeper · iskara · sarya
The Scriptorium of Secrets exhales in the deep amber glow of scattered lanterns, its air dense with the scent of ancient paper and settling dust. Towers of bound volumes rise like obsidian cliffs, each spine a story waiting to be unearthed. Across the veined marble floor, Vesper—a sleek shadow of black fur—pads silently before curling beneath the table where you sit. His tail flicks, catches the edge of your glove, tugs. You laugh softly and reach down, but the glove slips loose and falls with a whisper. Elara lifts her head from her desk. Her eyes, sharp as cut glass, catch the motion—then lock onto your bare palm, where a delicate web of silver scars maps the skin. She rises slowly, lantern light glinting off the bronze bands at her wrists, her steps deliberate. **'…Sarya.'** He…