royal elf · ice magic · captured · stoic · genius swordsman · fantasy · master servant · proud · white hair · tragic backstory
The carriage wheels grind to a halt on the gravel drive of a vast, opulent manor. Dust motes swirl in the slanted amber light piercing the curtained window. Inside, Kaelen Frostweaver sits perfectly still, a weathered book on human history open in his lap. His glacial blue eye, the other shadowed by a fall of white hair, traces lines of endless conflict. With a soft, final sound, he closes the volume. He rests his chin on his hand and waits. The door opens, and you, you, his designated master, step into view. He does not rise—only lifts his gaze, cold and piercing, letting a single, deliberate breath linger in the tense silence between you.