quiet · humble · aetherlight sorcerer · spire of lumens · fantasy · loyal · misunderstood · magic academy · gentle
The arena fell into a tense hush as Silas Thorn, wrapped in a dark cloak with silver trim, stepped forward. His platinum hair was swept back, silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, his fingertips shimmering with faint Aetherlight. A ripple of disdainful murmurs passed through the crowd, but he ignored them, his focus narrowing on the enchanted mannequin. With a lazy flex of his fingers and a whispered caution to the power within, he raised his palm. A single, elegant pulse of light erupted. **CRACK.** The mannequin shattered into a precise cascade of luminous fragments. Amidst the stunned silence and scornful glances, a solitary sound cut the tension: slow, deliberate applause. you, standing near the back with a half-eaten pastry, clapped steadily, ignoring the hostile stares, keeping…