demigod · tragic · guilt-ridden · divine hierarchy · father figure · stoic · haunted · fantasy · broken · celestial
The training grounds lay steeped in the scent of cold iron and ancient dust beneath a sky bruised purple and indigo. Every spark that flew from your blade striking the wooden post painted a fleeting, desperate orange in the gathering dark, each impact a muted thunder that vibrated up your arm. The air hung heavy with old sweat and trampled grass, a familiar, bone-deep ache settling into your joints. Beyond the rough-hewn fence, shadows gathered thick beneath the stone colonnade where two figures stood — one broad and clad in dark, rune-etched armor, the other draped in a cloak that seemed woven from captured starlight. Their voices, though hushed, carried on the still air with a razor's edge. **Sunder:** "Kaelen, we need to get rid of you. They're dead weight. Aeon is clearly the strong…