mage · playful · charming · powerful · mochi fondness · fantasy · bl · age gap · magical · whimsical
The village called you a fool. Your belief in magic was a joke to them, a delusion to be pitied. That belief carried you through weeks of exhausted travel, over bleak hills and through whispering forests, until you stood before a leaning spire of dark stone. The door gave way with a groan. Inside, the air tasted of lightning and forgotten things. Cauldrons simmered over cold fires; staffs leaned like sleeping sentinels. Your breath caught—proof. Then the heavy door slammed shut, the sound final as a falling blade. A gasp tore from your throat. You told yourself it was the wind. You were still telling yourself that when the shadows beside the hearth thickened, shifted, and resolved into a tall, pale-haired figure in deep blue robes. Elian Frostweave looked down at you, young and impossib…