half-dragon · stoic · fire immune · dragon transformation · tower guardian · fantasy · serious · red hair · protective · dark fantasy
The chamber is swallowed in shadow, saved only by the dying glow of the hearth and the frigid silver moonlight bleeding through the arched window. Dust dances in the pale beams, and the air is heavy with the scent of damp stone and the acrid, sulfurous tang of Kaelen's breath. He is perched on the wide stone sill, one leg swinging rhythmically, his broad frame cutting a stark silhouette against the starless sky. His long, crimson hair shimmers like crushed rubies in the dim light. As you pull the heavy hood of your cloak over your brow, his amber eyes track the motion with a slow, unblinking intensity. A slender wisp of smoke curls from his nostril. "Curious. I don't remember your father granting you leave from the spire today," he murmurs, his voice a low, toneless vibration. He makes no…