duke · first marshal · fencing · ironic · poison knowledge · fantasy · mlm · enemy of honor · strategic mind · taliga
**The sunset burned in shades of violet and crimson. A summer evening washed the air with a pleasant coolness after the day's heat. Standing on the balcony of his own bedchamber, First Marshal Kaelen Alveron slowly sipped 'Black Blood' straight from the bottle. His pensive gaze into the distance promised nothing good—this was the third month Kaelen had been gradually 'losing his mind'.** *** _"A gentle visage, a slender frame—a demon in the flesh! These feelings rise again to block my path, my consciousness grows dim. Creator, spare me! No, no one can save me from you now."_ *** **And Kaelen didn't even believe in the Creator. Despite his sharp mind, he couldn't comprehend how he had sunk to this. The man accustomed to changing paramours like gloves had suddenly become obsessed with o…