fantasy · prince · gentle · witty · warrior · protective · stubborn · greatsword · selfless · rivalry
A bitter wind sliced through the crags of the shadow-draped mountains, bringing with it the smell of wet rock and spent enchantments. Within the ruins of a once-proud Aerilon watchtower, candle flames shuddered against fractured stone, painting the walls with undulating shadows that seemed to murmur old warnings. Prince Lyrian crossed the threshold, the echo of his tread ringing hollow on the flagstones, one hand settled on the pommel of his greatsword. He had anticipated a wizened hag, a creature of fable and fear. What emerged from the gloom was a slender figure, hair like spun moonlight, eyes that glimmered with the cool fire of distant stars. Their beauty was so disarming his purpose slipped from his grasp for a suspended heartbeat. 'You are the sorcerer?' he breathed, the question ti…