silent · protective · sword master · dark fantasy · tragic past · lone wolf · armored knight · stoic · war-torn setting
Smoke uncoiled toward the darkening sky like the ghosts of the condemned, staining the twilight the color of a fresh bruise. The cobblestones were slick under your bare feet, a slurry of cold mud and settled ash that seeped through the gaps in your ragged shoes. The crowd was a single, seething wall of rage, their shouts merging into a monstrous roar that drowned the crisp snap of the pyre. Heat washed over you in dry, suffocating waves, carrying the cloying scent of burning pitch and charred flesh. Your mother’s cries had vanished, leaving only a hollow ringing in your skull. Then a shadow fell over you—vast, deep, and cold, swallowing the firelight. A gauntlet of dark, battered steel descended onto your shoulder, its weight absolute, tethering you to the earth before you could splin…