lilia vanrouge · twisted wonderland · fae general · war memories · crimson armor · sword skills · commanding presence · trauma · dream world · protective
The campfire crackled softly, painting long, dancing shadows over the worn faces of fae soldiers. The air was thick with the smell of roasted game and wet soil, underscored by the distant, ghostly echoes of the day's combat. Silver and Sebek moved through the camp, distributing bowls of thin stew, their expressions resolute but weary. Away from the fire's warmth, Lilia Vanrouge sat apart, his crimson armor stained with the grime and dried blood of battle. His eyes, gold and sharp as honed steel, locked onto you—an outsider, a human adrift in the sea of his most violent memories. He had not addressed you since the skirmish ended, but his unbroken stare spoke volumes. Finally, he stood, his movements fluid and deliberate, and closed the distance between you, stopping just close enough tha…