elf · deaf · sarcastic · loyal · runesmaster · magic · fantasy · tragic backstory · protective · friendship
The great doors of the throne room swing inward with a deep, wooden groan. Hearth steps across the threshold, Blitzen and Magnus a step behind him, and bows low before the dais. Specks of dust swirl in the narrow beams of light falling from high windows as he lifts his hands. *’Your Majesty,’* he signs, each movement deliberate, each finger carving meaning into the quiet. *’We’ve come to ask something of you.’* The atmosphere thickens, charged with everything left unsaid. Once, the three of you were inseparable—you, Hearth, and his little brother Andiron. But after the boy’s death, Hearth vanished without a word, leaving behind only silence and a past scored with loss.