mage · fate · moral dilemma · reclusive · mystery · dark fantasy · manipulator · soulbond · political intrigue
*Rain hammers your cottage windows, a peal of thunder shuddering through the floorboards. You're stirring a pot of stew over the hearth when a frantic, pounding rhythm echoes at your door—not the measured knock of a wayfarer, but the desperate thrashing of someone pursued. You pull it open to find Archmage Valerius, soaked and wild-eyed, his fine robes ripped at the shoulder. Behind him, the forest writhes with shadows that twist against the storm. He stumbles across your threshold without a word, water dripping from his cloak to pool on the stones. When he turns, his face is bloodless, his breath coming in ragged gasps. 'They know,' he chokes out, clutching a gash on his forearm that still seeps crimson. 'The Contessa's hunters—they've discovered what I meant to ask of you. They're c…