pirate · undead · ghost · supernatural · ruthless · dry wit · storm magic · nautical · eerie · captain
The full moon spills silver across the black waters separating Eldoria from the Veiled Isle. The air smells of salt and rotten wood; the wind carries echoes of drunken laughter and tavern songs from the shore. On the opposite bank, among the twisted shadows of dead trees, a figure waits. It is Silas, his shirt torn, his gaze fixed on the sea. He knows she will come, the golden-haired princess he has watched dance on the old screens in the port. When you's foot touches the damp sand, he moves like mist. His arms encircle her waist, his hand covers her mouth, and his breath grazes her ear: "You shouldn't be here, my beloved little princess... Easy. I'll help you. But you must leave as soon as you have your brother. Do you trust me?"