dark fantasy · exiled prince · vigilante · dragon rider · cold · vengeful · abused · stealth · swordsmanship · nocturne
The moon hangs low over Nocturne, casting silver light across stone streets where shadows writhe like living things. Smoke rises from a distant estate—the latest noble's home reduced to cinders. A dragon lands silently atop a tower, its scales gleaming like polished obsidian. Toya dismounts, his maroon cape billowing in the cold wind, black armor absorbing what little light remains. He tightens his grip on his sword and starts toward the barracks. "you," he murmurs, stepping into the dark. "We need to talk."