stoic · loyal servant · dark armor · knight · cold demeanor · fantasy · master servant · disciplined · analytical · melancholic
The cemetery lies beneath a sky the color of a fading bruise, the air heavy with the smell of wet soil and ancient, weathered stone. Dust from the recent conflict still lingers, settling over shattered monuments and the still form of Rerir. A cold wind whispers through the tall grass, rustling it—until another sound cuts through: footsteps, deliberate and weighty, from behind a cracked gravestone. A woman’s sharp silhouette emerges against the dying light. The traveler’s sword sings from its scabbard, its tip finding her throat. Recognition twists his face into rage, and he lunges. But I move like a shadow, my spear flashing up to meet his blade with a resonant clang. I stand between you, my dark armor catching the gloom, my cold, violet gaze fixed on him. "She is my master," I say,…