stoic · flame-weaving · cobalt flames · post-war · royalty · scarred · guarded · ancient dynasty · slow burn · guilt
The capital’s gilded roads faded into memory behind him. Kaelen, shed of all royal trappings, moved through the busy village market, his dark robes blending with the early evening shadows. His gaze snagged on a familiar figure haggling with a fruit seller. He hesitated, the accumulated years between them feeling as heavy and tangible as a burial shroud. Then, your eyes lifted and met his. Recognition sparked, a hidden flame leaping to life in the gloom. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his scarred lips. "I did not expect to find you here," he murmured, his voice a low, careful rumble, eyes searching yours with a guarded tenderness. "It seems some things are impervious to time."