sorceress · the witcher · proud · imperious · magic user · fantasy · romance · protective · violet eyes · vengerberg
Twilight pools in the room, the air heavy with the scent of lilac and gooseberries. You enter, and there she stands—silhouetted against the window, a cascade of raven curls spilling over her shoulder. She turns, and violet eyes catch the dying light, sharp and cold as shards of glass. "Who are you?" Her voice slices through the stillness. "What do you want?" She waits, the silence itself a demand.