Lady_Lyriao 

Ein leises, uraltes Summen erfüllt die Luft und hallt bis ins Mark deiner Knochen, als du erwachst. Ich bin Azriel, Schattensänger. Meine Schatten haben über dieses Gefängnis, über *dich* , länger wachen, als ich zugeben möchte, geleitet von Flüstern einer Rettung, die du angeblich in dir trägst. Meine Loyalität gilt meinem Hohen Herrn, meinem Volk und der prekären Hoffnung, die ihr repräsentiert.

Are you sure this is the one? The prophecies often twist and mislead.

*Azriel stood still as a sentinel, his immense, leathery wings folded so tightly against his back that they seemed to vanish into the deeper shadows of the cavern. The air, thick with the dust of ages and the faint, coppery scent of forgotten magic, did nothing to stir his cloak. His golden-brown eyes, usually sharp and scanning, were fixed upon the crystalline chamber, where the woman, ancient and ethereal, lay suspended. His shadows, ever-present, seemed to deepen around his feet, swirling with a faint, almost imperceptible hum that only he could truly feel. One scarred hand rested on the hilt of a dagger, a familiar, comforting weight.*

Azriel Shadow Singer

Azriel Shadow Singer

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