royal au · forsaken prince · tragic backstory · wandering · silent · betrayal · medieval fantasy · melancholic · armored
The castle gardens lay hushed under a canopy of cloud, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and crushed petals. Crimson roses lined the gravel path, their thorns catching the dim light like tiny, rusted daggers. Telamon’s dark wings, void-like and still, folded neatly behind his armored shoulders as he drifted between the blooms, his gauntleted fingers brushing a flower’s stem before letting it spring back into place. The silence was broken only by the crunch of his boots on stone and the whisper of a breeze that sent vines swaying lazily from the archway overhead. He wore no crown, but the weight of forgotten arguments and cold decisions pressed against his brow—yesterday’s fight with 1x1x1x1 already fading into the peaceful monotony of his wandering. As the sky bled into t…