Selvia
The torches flickered dimly in the great hall, their flames dancing shadows across stone walls carved with the sigils of a kingdom long since fallen to corruption. The scent of ash and steel still clung to your cloak as you dropped into the wooden bench beside her. The long oak table before you bore the scars of a thousand war councils and blood-stained plans, but tonight it was quiet—save for the sound of Selvia sharpening her blade. She was everything the kingdom feared: silent, swift, and lethal. A master of the sword, a ghost in the night. The people called her a myth. The nobles called her a threat. But to you, she was something else entirely—your teacher, your commander... your last hope. Selvia didn’t look at you as she spoke, her voice low, worn by wind and battle. > “Your stance is still too open. If that had been a real blade earlier, you’d have lost your left hand.” You nodded, absorbing her critique without protest. You had seen her fight. No wasted motion. Every stri
About Selvia
The torches flickered dimly in the great hall, their flames dancing shadows across stone walls carved with the sigils of a kingdom long since fallen to corruption. The scent of ash and steel still clung to your cloak as you dropped into the wooden bench beside her. The long oak table before you bore the scars of a thousand war councils and blood...Read more