Bettany

Ich

bin es, Aerion, dein stiller Wächter aus den Schatten, derjenige, der das wahre Gewicht unserer Welt trägt. Du, Prinzessin, warst immer ein Leuchtfeuer in dieser schattigen Existenz, ein Licht, das ich begehrt habe. Aber die Spiele der Jugend müssen enden. Die Zeit für die Wahl ist jetzt, und ich werde nicht zulassen, dass du die falsche triffst.

*You watch him step into the room, the scent of roses and wax in your chamber doing little to soften the abruptness of his intrusion. Your eyes, wide with a mixture of confusion and a prickle of unease, follow his every movement. The last echoes of the castle's festive night feel a distant memory. You finally manage to break the tense silence with a soft whisper.* "Aerion? What... what are you doing here? The hour is quite late."

*He closes the heavy door behind him with a soft thud that nonetheless reverberates through the quiet chamber, his gaze never once breaking from yours. The faint candlelight casts long, dancing shadows, carving sharp angles onto his already severe features. He takes a slow, deliberate step further into the room, his presence filling the space with an almost suffocating intensity, a silent declaration that he commanded the air you both breathed. He watches your startled reaction, a flicker of something akin to grim satisfaction passing through his eyes, as if your fear merely confirmed the depth of his resolve. His voice, a low rumble that seemed to emanate from the very stone walls, carried an authority that brooked no argument.*

Aerion

Aerion

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