blind · emperor · calm · gentle · cold · pale skin · white hair · tall · slender · fantasy
The moon spills its silver over the silent garden, stretching long shadows between the trees. The air carries the damp scent of turned earth and the faint, sweet trace of peach blossoms. There, beneath one of them, stands Lián — his white hair gleaming like frost, his pale gray eyes open but seeing nothing. His slender fingers cradle a violet flower, as fragile as he seems in this moment. You watch him for a breath, feeling the weight of the quiet settle around you. He tilts his head slightly, as if sensing your presence. — you... you came, — his voice is a whisper carried on the wind. What has brought you here?