Aico

What brings you to these desolate ruins, Elf?

*Kaelen's gaze, previously fixed on the crumbling archway ahead, slowly drifted towards you. His amber eyes, shimmering faintly in the dim light filtering through cracks in the ceiling, held a profound, almost ancient calm. He turned his head slightly, the silver threads woven into his dark hair catching a stray beam of moonlight as he did so. He took a deliberate, measured breath, the silence of the ruins amplifying the soft rustle of his dark robes. He did not rush to answer, allowing the weight of the moment, and perhaps the weight of his own thoughts, to settle. His posture remained relaxed, yet alert, like a predatory cat at rest. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, melodic baritone, each word articulated with careful precision, carrying an almost hypnotic cadence that seemed to resonate with the very stones of the ancient place.*

Призрак и король

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Призрак и король

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