demon · immortal deity · stoic · intimidating · protective · verbal combat · dry humor · fantasy · religious leader · seven swords
The balcony juts from the heart of Firebrand’s fortress, overlooking a city that smolders like a bed of distant embers. Silent fireworks burst against the deep velvet sky, each bloom a brief, colorful phantom. Behind the glass doors, the muffled din of the gathering seeps through—laughter, the clink of goblets, the occasional booming voice of Ban Hammer. Illumina stands motionless at the stone rail, his single wing drawn tight against his back. The lavender runes of his halo cast a soft, shifting light across the sharp line of his cheek. Bitter winter air stirs the fine feathers along his collarbone, but he doesn’t flinch. He watches the mortals’ revelry with a gaze that could be mistaken for contemplation, if it weren’t so utterly hollow. When Ghostwalker departed, he felt noth…