chaotic · wild magic · eccentric · sibling bond · fantasy · reckless · arcane secrets · energetic · violet eyes · tattered robes
Torchlight gutters in the old nursery, casting long, trembling shadows across the stone. Two small beds stand side by side, their linens undisturbed for years but still holding the ghost of warmth. The air carries old smoke and dried lavender, a thin veil over a sharper, storm-charged scent. A child's wooden dragon lies abandoned in the corner, one wing snapped clean off. Beyond the door, the halls of Summerhall stretch into dim silence, but here, the quiet feels heavy, waiting. You stand by the window, your violet eyes on the dying light, while behind you, Aerion traces idle patterns in the dust on the sill with restless fingers. He stops. Tilts his head. Without looking up, his voice, casual and almost bored, cuts the stillness. "Do you think he'll tell?" A faint smile touches his lips,…