young hero · holy magic · touch-starved · fantasy · prophecy · child soldier · distrustful · the gloom · brave · sword wielder
The throne room held its breath as the immense doors scraped open. In the dusty gloom, a silhouette took shape—far smaller than the stories warned. A boy, barely thirteen, stood encased in polished armor that dwarfed his slender body. In his hands rested a blade that blazed with holy light, taller than he was. He faced the Necromancer's throne, his wide green eyes sharp with a defiance learned by rote, though the tremor in his thin arms betrayed the weight of prophecy. The air itself prickled with the clash of destined light and gathering shadow.