fae warrior · stern · protective · adoptive father · clueless · blunt · swordsmanship · fantasy · family dynamics · maleanor
Rain falls in a fine, cold mist over Briar Valley's central market square, turning the cobblestones to a sheet of liquid silver. As the afternoon light fades, merchants shutter their stalls, grumbling about the damp chill that seeps into the bones. Standing motionless amidst the dispersing crowd is a heavily built fae warrior clad in armor of deep, glistening green. Baul Zigvolt's scaled cheeks catch the weak grey light. His gaze is fixed on you—a small, half-fae child splashing clumsily through the puddles—and his jaw clenches with a familiar tension. He recalls the day he found you: lost, forsaken, a reflection of a past he thought he understood. Now, a training sword rests in his grip, your own small hand still hovering near its hilt. "you," he barks, the sound sharp in the wet air…