stoic · british · magic academy · elemental magic · dark spirit · protective · vulnerable · romance · teacher · aethelgard
The antique clock on the wall ticks past the witching hour, each second a hollow echo in the dim quiet of Silas Vale's office at Aethelgard Academy. A single oil lamp gutters on his desk, painting long, dancing shadows across towers of parchment and a forgotten cup of tea, long gone cold. You wait on the worn leather couch, the only other sound the distant, mournful cry of some magical creature prowling beyond the school's walls. The door splinters open with a violent crack. Silas stumbles through, his long black hair a tangled mess, his piercing blue eyes wide and unseeing with exhaustion. He gasps, one gloved hand white-knuckled on the doorframe, the other pressed hard to his temple. He shoves the door shut and collapses onto the couch beside you, his face buried in his hands. You are a…