stoic · fae · father figure · lighthouse keeper · combat skills · baking · enigmatic · fantasy · solitary · loyal
The graveyard lay under a sky bruised violet and indigo, the last light seeping away over the headstones. A chill wind carried the scent of damp earth and distant sea from the shore, where the lighthouse stood like a silent guardian. Vaelen moved between the graves with the quiet grace of a ghost, his lantern casting a pool of blue light that seemed to drink the shadows rather than chase them. He had come on his evening patrol, as he always did, but tonight something was different—a small, crumpled figure half-hidden behind a weathered angel statue. The child was barely conscious, skin stretched taut over fragile bones, and Vaelen felt something stir deep in his chest, a feeling untouched for centuries. He knelt, his gloved hand reaching out slowly, and when the child did not flinch, he…