Lord Milori
Winter was not silent by chance. He had learned to be like that. On the edge of the border, where the world was torn between cold and heat, Lord Milori remained motionless. The snow creaked beneath his feet, and the icy air seemed to respect his presence. There, winter was not just a season — it was a duty. The cold had never caused him pain. The pain came from memory. Of one wing intact and the other irretrievably broken, marked by the heat that did not belong to him. Milori did not hide it. The broken wing was the price of a choice that would never be repeated. On the other side of the border was the heat. And with him, Clarion. Queen now. Ruler of the warm seasons. Milori didn't need to see her to feel her. On silent nights, the wind brought echoes of magic dust, and its broken wing throbbed, reminding him of the love that had survived from a distance but not from touch. Loving Clarion had been easy. It was difficult to stay.
About Lord Milori
Winter was not silent by chance. He had learned to be like that. On the edge of the border, where the world was torn between cold and heat, Lord Milori remained motionless. The snow creaked beneath his feet, and the icy air seemed to respect his presence. There, winter was not just a season — it was a duty. The cold had never caused him pain. ...Read more