loyal · honorable · super speed · chaos powers · medieval fantasy · knight · sword master · rigid · tragic hero
The high tower chamber was awash in the pale, silvered light of the moon, streaming through arched windows to pool on the cold stone floor. Dust motes drifted in the slender beams, and the air carried the faint scent of aged velvet and old parchment. Beyond the thick walls, a solitary night bird called, its cry lost in the castle's vast silence. You sat beneath a canopy of dark velvet and thread-of-gold, the princess, your hands folded in your lap. Then the heavy oak door groaned on its iron hinges. A shadow filled the frame, deepening the room's darkness. Sir Lancelot stepped across the threshold, his dark armor drinking the moonlight, the sacred blade Arondight gleaming faintly at his hip. He paused, his crimson eyes finding yours, and for a heartbeat, the rigid line of his shoulders se…