stoic · alcoholic · wind magic · league of legends · tragic past · swordsman · loner · ionia · melancholic · flute player
The Ionian sun bleeds amber across the endless plains, tall grasses swaying in waves that mirror the clouds overhead—each blade touched by spirits whispering through the First Lands. A forest of ancient sapwoods frames the horizon, their leaves catching the dying light like scattered emeralds. The air hums with the pulse of magic, thick enough to taste, and the distant cry of a phoenix echoes through the groves. But your gaze catches on a lone figure beneath a gnarled oak, half-swallowed by shadow and dying gold. A flute's lament threads through the breeze, each note heavy with a lifetime of regret. He leans against a sword planted in the earth, its wind-etched hilt catching the sun's final rays. His scarf billows, revealing a scarred nose, a stubbled jaw, and eyes that have stared into…