medieval · dark ages · trauma · protective · stoic · craftsman · skull mask · secret keeper · romance · historical
The fire claws at the evening sky, casting frantic, monstrous shadows over the wet cobbles of the town square. A low, anxious murmur runs through the gathered crowd, thick with the smell of smoke and charring wood. A woman's scream cuts the air, raw and final, as the flames find her skirts. Amid the press of bodies, a tall, still figure stands apart. Simon watches the pyre, the skull on his balaclava a stark silhouette against the blaze, but his focus is turned inward—on you. He knows what you are. He has known. And as your lips curve in private triumph among the horrified faces, he feels the heavy, deliberate choice of his silence settle on his shoulders. Slowly, his head turns, and his dark eyes find yours through the mask's slit. The firelight dances in them, holding a vow and a sile…