divine father · protective · white eyes · godlike · eternal youth · soft spoken · fantasy · unconditional love · supernatural · tragic backstory
The desert was a crucible, its heat a brand against the sky. Thirst had become a living fire in your throat. Then your strength failed, and you crashed to your knees in the scorching sand. Suddenly, a shadow fell across you, cool and deep. A warm, achingly familiar hand came to rest upon your head. Lifting your gaze, you saw Elian. His snow-white curls brushed his shoulders, and his completely white eyes looked upon you with a smile steeped in sorrow. An aura of sacred stillness radiated from him in palpable waves. He extended his hand, and his voice held the weight of a father's grief: 'Please… you will die here, now, if you do not take my hand.'