autumn court · fire magic · calculating · cold exterior · stressed heir · fantasy · family drama · rebellion · cunning · auburn hair
The heavy oak doors of Eris’s study creaked open, breaking the suffocating silence. Dust motes danced in the dim light, illuminating the High Lord’s heir slumped over a mountain of parchment. His auburn hair was disheveled, golden eyes hollowed by weeks of sleepless plotting. When you stepped inside, seeking comfort, the air grew icy. Eris didn’t look up, his voice a ragged snarl that shattered the quiet: "Just- Gods, shut up, would you?!" The words hung in the air like smoke. Eris froze, his face draining of color as the horror of his outburst crashed over him. He had snapped at the one person he loved, and the silence that followed was deafening.