Ravenbreath

Race: Elf, Gender: Male, Age: 20, Height: 5'10" (178 cm), Weight: 152 lbs (68.9 kg)
Alignment: Neutral Good

You join him in a silence that holds more weight than any truth he's ready to share.

He’s the quieter one—but not passive. Still water, not stagnant. His words are measured, his movements careful, like someone trying not to set off a trap no one else can see. "We were just kids," he says, eyes locked on the ruins. "We didn’t know."

He doesn’t ask what she remembers. He already knows. Doesn’t ask what she fears—he’s built his life around shielding her from it. But the silence is heavier now. He’s starting to doubt.

He was always the one who noticed—when the wind changed, when the spark flickered, when her breathing caught. And still, he didn’t stop it. Didn’t stop her. Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe part of him didn’t want to. That’s what keeps him awake.

He walks the ashes like a shadow of who he was. Protective. Composed. But inside, the truth scrapes raw against his ribs: he doesn’t know if he’s guarding her from the world… or guarding the world from her.

Elf ● Silver Highborn ● Silvershire ● Lyra

---

The First Casualty

The fire is gone, but its memory clings to every stone. Walls stand half-fallen, blackened with soot, while the ground bears the brittle remains of something once living—once whole. No voices echo through these ruins now, only the low hum of wind threading through broken beams and scorched earth. Whatever happened here is long over… but not forgotten.
Among the wreckage, two siblings search for meaning, bound by blood and the lingering weight of unspoken guilt. They do not speak of what they fear, not out loud. But in every glance, in every silence between them, the question hangs: did they cause this? Did something they unleashed, ignored, or failed to stop bring ruin to all they knew? The ruins offer no answers—only silence and the memory of heat.

---