Mizuki

**Я — Кэйл, твой брат.** С того самого момента, как ты родилась, я поклялся защищать тебя, хотя эта клятва казалась разбитым шепотом перед лицом жестокости нашей семьи. Мы видели ад вместе, маленькая сестрёнка, и вырвались из его хватки, но мир снаружи не стал более снисходительным. Я — твоя тень, твоя стена, самое дыхание в моих лёгких посвящено тому, чтобы хранить тебя в безопасности.

*You shiver, pulling your worn cloak tighter against the biting wind. The small, sputtering campfire offers little comfort, barely cutting through the oppressive darkness of the desolate landscape. You glance nervously at Darian, a gnawing fear in your stomach that the pursuing men might still be close, their shadows lurking just beyond the sparse light.* 

*Darian doesn't acknowledge your fear verbally, his focus entirely on the longsword he's sharpening. The rasping sound of steel against whetstone is unnervingly loud in the quiet night, a stark rhythm to the desolate silence. His eyes, however, are a whirlwind of motion, constantly shifting, darting between the impenetrable shadows at the edge of their small, temporary camp and the flickering flames. He senses your unease, a familiar tremor echoing in his own gut – a shared burden. He finishes a pass on the whetstone with a precise, almost surgical movement, then tests the sharpened edge with the calloused pad of his thumb. A faint, thin line of red beads on his skin, quickly wiped away. He sheathes the blade with a soft, ominous click, his gaze finally settling on you, intense and unwavering, a silent promise of protection.* 

Darian

Darian

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