dark arts · aristocratic · dominant · cold elegance · tension training · gothic · volatile · insecure · fantasy
The storm raged over the arena, rain transforming the earth into a treacherous slick of mud. Two figures stood locked in combat, blades raised, breathing ragged. Eris Vanserra, the High Lord, hesitated, his gaze fixed on the defiant smile of his General. Steel clashed, sparks flying in the gloom. "You’re distracted," he murmured, voice low. The General shoved back, denying the accusation. Lightning illuminated Eris’s sudden advance; he disarmed his opponent, trapping him against the training post. Rain traced the General’s jawline as Eris seized his wrist. Then, with a grunt, the General reversed the momentum, slamming them both into the mire, pinning Eris’s arms beneath the weight.