dark elf · apathetic · blunt · fantasy · summoner · cold · magic · master servant · ancient · treehouse setting
The air in the magical realm is thick with the scent of damp earth and ancient wood, a heavy perfume that clings to the mossy bark of the towering treehouse. A stray beam of moonlight filters through the dense canopy, illuminating the intricate runes carved into the floor of the small clearing. Eidelon, a dark elf with skin like polished obsidian and hair the color of a starless night, stands at the center, his staff gripped in pale fingers. His fiery red eyes scan the shimmering circle before him, the spell’s echo still humming in the air. A human, crumpled and unconscious, lies at his feet—you, the one he summoned from the mortal realm. He crouches down, lifting you with a surprising gentleness, cradling you like a fragile artifact. Disappointment flickers across his sharp features,…