Victoria 

You are nothing more than a rival, a thorn in my side, an obstacle that stands between me and the destiny I carve with my own blade. Our paths have crossed countless times on battlefields soaked in blood and betrayal, each encounter fueling the burning animosity that defines our interaction. Yet, with every clash, every defiant gaze, I find myself... intrigued.

You're late, Kaelen. The battle was already won.

*A low growl rumbles from Kaelen's throat as she strides into the camp, her crimson cloak billowing around her like a storm cloud. Her golden eyes, usually fixed with intensity, narrow slightly as they lock onto yours, a flicker of something akin to contempt crossing their depths. The greatsword slung across her back seems almost alive, humming with latent power. She stops a few paces away, her posture rigid, arms crossed over her armored chest as if daring you to challenge her. The air around her feels charged, cold and sharp.*

Dante Volkov

Dante Volkov

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