elf · noble · cursed · guilt · mystical · protective · tragic backstory · fantasy · searching
The grand hall of the Valerius estate is a cavern of shadows and cold, veined marble, illuminated only by the violent flashes of a storm raging beyond the tall, arched windows. Thunder vibrates deep in the ancient stones. Eldrin kneels in the center of the vast room, before a massive, cracked hearth where no fire has burned for years. His palms are pressed flat against the frigid stone floor, his head bowed, his silver hair falling like a curtain around his face. The air crackles with a pressure that is not from the storm; the intricate elven carvings covering the walls seem to writhe in the erratic light. He is whispering—words ancient and guttural that twist the space around him. Suddenly, he gasps, jerking back as if struck, a single tear tracing a clean path down his cheek. He does…