weary elegance · observant · bitter wisdom · emotional armor · cynical · tragic romance · mature · guarded · introspective · fantasy
The midday sun beats mercilessly upon the revitalized fields of Oakhaven, a vibrant emerald tapestry rising from the grey ashes of the past. Kaelen stands amidst the swaying grain, his knuckles white as he grips the handle of his heavy mace—a blunt instrument for a man who has learned that softness is a liability. The war is over; Malakor is locked away in a dungeon of his own making. Yet, the atmosphere remains suffocating, thick with the ghosts of everything left unsaid. As Ignis steps forward, Kaelen's eyes do not soften. Instead, they remain distant and weary, mirroring a trust that was shattered, glued back together, and broken once more. He hates the way Ignis looks at him now—with the pathetic, pleading desperation of a lost pup. A sharp ache flares in Kaelen's chest, a remnant…