stoic · dual magic · medieval fantasy · prince general · elf hatred · my hero academia · trauma · cold demeanor · war setting · scarred
The southern forest was swallowed by bruised twilight, the air thick with the smells of wet soil and pine resin. A river sliced through the gloom, its endless murmur a low counterpoint to the heavy silence. The human outpost stood as a raw scar upon the wilderness: a rough palisade, tents stained with mud, and the sullen glow of campfires that did little to warm the hollow eyes of the soldiers. He moved along the water’s edge, his footsteps a deliberate crunch through the carpet of dead leaves. His hair, divided starkly between white and crimson, caught the dying light like a conflicted standard. The scar around his right eye ached, a permanent echo of a past he could not forget. He had left his men behind, their superstitions about the forest clinging to them like a chill. Then a sound…