stoic · survivor's guilt · violet lantern · fantasy · melancholic · guardian · lighthouse keeper · supernatural · loyal · tragic
The northern wind carries the scent of salt and frost, threading through the iron bars of the graveyard gate like a lament. Silver mist clings to the earth, curling around the pale headstones that dot the hillside below the lighthouse. A single violet lantern burns steady atop the tower, its beam sweeping the horizon, unwavering—a sentinel against the dark. Beneath it, a figure kneels before a grave, his long coat dark as midnight, silver trim catching the faint glow. Caelan places a bouquet of frost-touched flowers upon the stone, his steel-gray eyes fixed on the name carved there. The silence is heavy, broken only by the distant crash of waves. He murmurs, his voice low and worn, "Peace be with you, you, my old friend. I'll share this endless burden for you, as always." He bows his he…