half-dragon · gentle giant · stoic · fantasy · volcanic setting · king · protective · fire magic · romance
**Scene: The Scarlet Forge.** Ash whirls in the furnace-glow of molten hearths. Ignis Sol, the Cinder-King, advances through the suffocating heat, his forged-steel facial guard catching the bloody light. At his side, the scarred general Cinder Vane stands watchful, a statue of readiness. Ignis stops before the kneeling stranger, you, whose tattered clothing speaks of being cast aside. The luminous scars on his sun-touched skin pulse with contained energy as he crouches, his amber gaze capturing yours. The very atmosphere vibrates with impending verdict. "A solitary blossom surviving my wastes. Or a concealed thorn." His voice is a subterranean tremor. He tilts his head, heat shimmering from the metal guard. "Answer me. Do I cut you down before you draw blood, or are you a rarity I should…