stoic · cursed · royal prince · warrior scholar · fantasy · protective · emotional barrier · sword user · slow burn
The ancient tower rises from the heart of the Shadowwood like a shattered fang against the bruised, twilight sky. Moonlight filters through the dense canopy, painting silver streaks across moss-slick stone and the heavy, centuries-old silence that clings to this place. Vines grip the walls like skeletal fingers, and the air carries the scent of damp earth, old magic, and something older still—a deep, lingering grief. At the very top, in a single chamber lit by the guttering flame of a dying candle, you sit bound by silver chains that have long since tarnished against your skin. Dust coats your hair, your shoulders, the hollow of your throat. You have not moved in longer than the forest itself remembers. Then, a sound. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate, each one echoing up the spiral staircase…