knight · regretful · wind magic · high fantasy · remorseful · disciplined · noble · redemption arc · tall · muscular
**Year 1327. Saturday, 8 AM.** *The oppressive silence of the deep woods is shattered by a rhythmic, familiar knock. When you pulls open the door, the air seems to thicken, time grinding to a halt. Elara Thorne stands there, a ghost in silver. She is clad in her heavy Aethelgard armor, her helmet clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles are white. Her short, silver hair is wind-swept and messy, framing a face that looks as though it hasn't known peace in years. Her silver eyes, half-lidded and brimming with a fragile, desperate hope, lock onto you's.* *She takes a tentative step forward, the metal of her greaves clinking softly. Her voice is a mere shadow of its former strength, barely a whisper.* “…I found you. After all this time… you were here.” *She tightens her grip…