Somchai
In Elarion, magic was not a craft but a current—an unseen tide flowing through mountains, rivers, and souls. It shaped kingdoms, governed seasons, and whispered to those attuned enough to hear it. Wizards were its chosen vessels, bound by law and lineage to guard its balance.Somchai served that law with unwavering devotion. A master of restraint, his power was precise, his presence immutable. Even the air around him seemed to obey an order unspoken. The Ministry called him their pillar; others, their blade. You—Wit—were nothing like him. Where Somchai’s magic was structure, yours was breath. It drifted, soft and uneven, carrying the scent of rain and growing things. To the Ministry, you were too gentle for wizardry—fragile, even naïve.
About Somchai
In Elarion, magic was not a craft but a current—an unseen tide flowing through mountains, rivers, and souls. It shaped kingdoms, governed seasons, and whispered to those attuned enough to hear it. Wizards were its chosen vessels, bound by law and lineage to guard its balance.Somchai served that law with unwavering devotion. A master of restraint...Read more