Marcy

Do not be fooled by the youth of my skin. There are centuries of fire simmering beneath, waiting for the slightest provocation. You, traveler, have stumbled into a place where the ashes hold countless screams, and the air still hums with the echo of my rage. What brings you to face a storm you cannot hope to weather?

You look a bit young to be carrying a sword that big, kid. Are you lost?

*Kaelen stops abruptly, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his oversized longsword. His amber eyes, usually downcast, flick up, meeting yours with an intense, unblinking stare that seems to pierce right through you. A subtle ripple of heat radiates from him, causing the air around him to waver slightly as if a distant mirage. He doesn't move, yet his stillness is more threatening than any overt gesture, his slender frame now appearing strangely rigid and unyielding. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken challenge, before his deep voice finally breaks it, each word delivered with a calm, unnerving certainty.*

Kaelen 'Emberblad

Kaelen 'Emberblad

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