#Elera

[ravanblack]

Elera sighs and leans against a beam holding up the roof of the ranch. It’s only a skeleton, and the building materials still have to arrive. It’s been almost three months since Wild defeated Ganon. She still couldn’t find Wolfie but she got a shelter and most of the fence for the horses is fixed already. She even put out fresh food for Wolfie, hoping he’d come back. Sadly it didn’t work, he’s still gone and there is no sign of him.

Elera looks over the ranch and smiles to herself. “It’s starting to look good, right Dark?” She looks over to the horse grazing in the part of the pasture that is already fixed. Seeing a group a of people approaching, Elera stops her leaning and walks up to the group. “Hello.” She waves with an easy smile. Yet she eyes the group thoroughly.

They all had weapons, one even has a full set of armor. He also seems the leader of their group, marks on the right side of his face and a claymore strapped to his back.

One has a pelt around his shoulders and a dark green shirt, blue belt and dirty blond hair. He also seems to have markings on his fore head.

One has a four colored tunic, green head band. He seems the smallest but not the youngest.

That seems to be the one with the same blue shirt as she and Wild found on their journey, it seems to fit this boy better however, his hair seems to be one of the lightest and fluffiest.

One of them has a blue scarf and he has shoulder guards, he carries himself like a guard or knight, or at least a high society person. And Elera only has Princess Zelda and Prince Sidon as an example.

One looks like your average traveler actually, his hair is very dark blonde, edging to brown. He would look like an average traveler if it wasn’t for his shining, silver sword inlaid with what looks like rubies and his face that looks way too elegant to not be noble.

One looks very grumpy, red shirt that goes down to his knees, no pants and fancy boots that seem to have feathers on them. He has a long, blue, pointy hat and his hair almost seems pink instead of blonde.

The last one wears a white cape and his eyes seem gentle, but the sword he is carrying is what draws Elera’s attention.

She tenses and takes a step back. “How did you get that sword?”

The group immediately gets defensive. The one with the red shirt crosses his arms and scoffs. “What’s it to you?”

Elera is about ready to go find Wild and ask if he really put the sword back. But she was there, she saw him put it back with Princess Zelda. “I know the person who used to own that sword. So it is my business.”

The shocked and confused expressions were not what she expected. But the one with the red shirt didn’t seem impressed. “Yeah, right, and I’m a fairy.” He snarks.

Elera raises an eyebrow. Who does this guy think he is? Her ears tilt back, and she frowns. “Listen. You barge around on my turf. And I just want to help you guys. I asked you how you got the sword. I didn’t accuse any of you!” She grits her teeth, it seems she is more upset about what happened at the castle then she thought.

“Your turf?” The one with the full body armor asks. He seems confused as he looks around the damages and barely standing house skeleton.

“Yeah, I claimed it and no one wanted this anyways. Why do you care?” She grumbles and crosses her arms.

“Hey, Old Man, isn’t this the Ranch?” The kid in the blue shirt asked.

“Old Man” nods solemnly. “Yeah… This is the Ranch.”

Elera frowns slightly. “I never seen you guys around here. And I know almost everyone in Hyrule thanks to my friend. So you’re either not from here, or you’re awfully good at hiding.” The group of people shuffle, unsure of how to continue.

Elera just sighs, she was actually doing this, huh? “Where are you guys headed? It’s a big land and I may be able to lead you to where you need to go. Not only that, but if you’re from over the border, you’re not ready to fight the things walking around here.”

The one with the scarf squares his shoulders. “I would say were pretty competent. We’re heroes after all.” He winks and shows a flashy smile.

“Yeah… Sure. Where are you headed?” Elera had no idea if he really just tried to flirt with her. But the sooner this group left the sooner she could disappear to Korok Forest and look for Wild.

“We’re going for the Castle… but it looks…” The one with the Master Sword starts and Elera already sighs internally.

“I will take you. It’s been a while since the last Blood Moon but sometimes things just won’t stay dead.” She whistles as she walks to the pasture and Dark trots over. She takes him out of the pasture and quickly put his saddle and bridle on him.

Elera turns to the group and looks each of them in the eye. “If I say run, you book it. No arguing and no trying to act tough. You don’t know this place like I do.” Without waiting for a response Elera guides Dark out of the Ranch by his reigns.

The guy which looks most like a traveler starts walking next to Elera. The guy with the fur on the other side, next to Dark. “What is he called?”

“Dark, a trustworthy and gentle stallion.” Elera sees the visible tension wash over the two. Not sure why, she ignores it, trying to get some information from the group instead. “So… do you all have a name?” She looks at the traveler because he seems someone easy to spill things. But he actually looks over his shoulder at the guy with the markings on his face. He seems to give confirmation because the traveler gives an award-winning smile and happily replies. “So, we all actually have the same name. To avoid confusion we all use nicknames! My nickname is Hyrule.”

Elera frowns and looks around the group behind her. “And the others..?”

Hyrule, as he dubbed himself apparently, points at the guy with the with the fur. “That’s Twilight.” He then starts walking backwards and points at the pair walking behind them. “The one without the pants is Legend and next to him is Sky. He has the sail cloth around his shoulders.”

Oh, so it wasn’t a cape but a sail cloth. Noted.

“Then in the middle we got Four the smallest. But don’t let them hear that, they get very upset. And next to them with the lobster shirt is Wind.

“All the way in the back are the Old Man or Time, he has the face markings, and Warriors the guy with the scarf.” Hyrule grins and starts walking normally again. “What about you? What is your name?”

Elera thought about it, and noticed the chatter stopped to listen in on her answer. Eventually she sighs and nods. “My name is Elera.” She gives Hyrule at least a small smile.

Of course that is the moment a large food step makes itself known. Elera raises a hand and everyone stops. Then the telling beeping sound of a Guardian fills the air. The whole group is immediately on edge.

“Get ready to run.” Elera grabs her bow and knocks and ancient arrow on it. “Because if I miss, all hell breaks loose.” The beeping gets faster and faster and the groups takes a step back. Elera takes breath and lets the arrow fly to her target. It thankfully hits home a second before the laser fires. She breathes a sigh of relief and leans against Dark for a moment.

“Okay, what the fuck was that?!” Elera looks over her shoulder to see most of them actually drew their weapon. Legend? Yeah, that was Legend, seems both calm and on edge at the same time.

“A Guardian. Like I said, you guys wouldn’t have been able to fight it.” Elera starts walking again.

[crimson-vow]

Vir shiral ma lasa, bellanaris.

insp.

[sky-scribbles]

OK all, I need song recs! I'm trying to make a playlist for each of my dragon age protagonists, and for some reason I cannot find songs for my Inquisitor.

Anyone got any good song recommendations for a Lavellan who:

Is convinced she has to act composed and together at all times, because if she gets emotional she is Letting Everyone Down

Very charismatic; can talk people into just about anything through the power of gentle politeness

Feels she's always becoming the person other people need her to be, and doesn't have a strong sense of self under the constant act

Loves her clan and wants to go home, but feels obliged to become Inquisitor because of how many people are suffering

Has a character arc about learning that she's allowed to rage, cry, and demand that people treat her with respect

Romances & forgives Blackwall

Becomes close friends with Solas and is distraught at finding out the truth, but vows to save him from himself

Disbands the Inquisition to return to her clan because she realises she's giving too much of herself

[overboss]

your honour she is the cutest

[starcaverns]

(left is armor, right is camp clothes. Her eyes are partially covered by her bangs)

In my upcoming BG3 fic Elotia (I spelt her name wrong, somehow) takes the place of tav.

She is a 300+ year old "high" elf who is old enough to have lived through the iron crisis and met Gorion's Ward (In this universe a human paladin named Nazia).

You'd think after living in Baldur's Gate for over a 100 years would teach her that city was not safe from invasions. She was captured by a nautiloid and was left weakened and trying to find her way in life agian.

Possible spoilers for the fic, if I ever post it. Here is Elotia's backstory.

Created by Mystra over 200 years ago, Elera was made for one purpose: Kill things that threaten Mystra. She was one of the more powerful celestials in Mystra's armory, despite only being use very little. Elera had a lot of free time, sometimes not being sent out for months. Over the decades Elera had gathered so much magical energy that she could have some control over the weave, which Mystra did not intend for Elera to have.

Elera was created to fight, she was strong physically, a fighter champion. But now Elera could do magic outside of extra radiant damage, she could do mage hand and counterspell and sunburst and other spells. At first Mystra wasn't sure how to feel about this, and was wary to send her on more missions, only further leaving Elera with more free time.

That one day Elera had decided that eavesdropping on some harpers would be the most interesting that would happen at the Friendly Arm Inn. Then some human walked up to them and talked to them about Nashkel and the ongoing iron crisis. She had accidently met eyes with the human woman, giving away the fact that she was listening in.

Soon after the woman walked up, introducing herself as Nazia, and saying that she wanted help. Apparently the paladin had thought that Elera was a sword for hire. Judging from the fact that she had fine metal armor and sword, and could keep her armor and weapons from thieves.

Elera and Nazia quickly got close, and Elera learned a lot about the woman. She had been raised in Candlekeep, and was a paladin of Selune. Despite having diffrent goddess Elera found Nazia's relationship with Selune intersting, and enjoyed watching the human pray to her goddess.

Over the months they traveled together Elera decided to break herself away from Mystra, and pretend to be a mortal to blend in easier with the rest of the traveling party. She took form as a high elf, and let Nazia choose her new name, Elotia.

Mystra was clearly not pleased with this development, or the brewing romance between Nazia and Elera. But Elera still did her duties, so Mystra let it be for the moment.

Elotia was there through all of Nazia's troubles. Discovering she was a bhaalspawn, the hells, the underdark. Elotia was there for all of it.

Once they were kidnapped in Amn Nazia said that if they survived this they were getting married. Elotia quickly agreed. But they both didn't survive. Near the end of the fight with Amelyssan, Elotia had her heart literally torn out.

Though she did not need a heart to live, as she was a celestial, Mystra started sapping her life force. Elotia demanded to know what her goddess was doing, and she got her answer. Elera was getting to out of hand, caring more about the mortals then keeping Mystra safe. Her life force would be repurposed to create a new celestial.

But Nazia, not ready to give up her fiancée, prayed to Selune to give life back to Elotia. And Selune did so, making the two connected. Neither had real hearts, and instead had the lovers heart.

A artifact that was split in two, one half going in Nazia the other in Elotia. The only way to kill the both of them was to destroy the hearts at the same time, otherwise the hearts would quickly regenerate and bring the person back to life.

Elotia then fully became Elotia, and became a cleric of Selune, later her head priest in the church at Baldur's Gate. Over the years of the two being married Elotia's hair became white (Just a weird essence of Selune thing), and she grew out her hair. Signifying her leave from becoming a fighter, and fully becoming a mage.

(I have not played either BG1 or BG2, so 90% sure that something I said is wrong. But I don't care, D&D's lore is something I mismatch in and out of the table)

[lcgacyofages]

@fatedmuses sent: i could get used to this. nights in bed with you laying beside me. from PROMPTS FOR INTIMATE PILLOW TALK

She was quite comfortable where she was. But it was more than the comfort of the bed and the weight of the blanket. It was the ease of being with him. A welcoming warmth which beckoned her to him, without even trying.

His words made her smile and she propped herself up to get a proper look at him. One hand traced along his jaw, thumb brushing against his lips. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips before pulling back.

"Oh? Could you now?" She teased him, hand resting on his chest. "And what else could you get used to?"

[uriangerswife]

Making ref sheets for the avakids. Hopefully I finish before DT lmao.

[fatedmuses]

//ship tag drop

[renegademolecules]

Haha oops. Even though they haven't kissed yet it doesn't stop me from coming up with ideas about it. Just a sketch because I needed it out of my mind and on some record before I exploded and bother my RP partner more with kiss ideas.

Inquisitor Cadash x Survivor Levallan :P

[choccy-zefirka]

@sky-scribbles

can we talk for a moment about how rook can greet the inquisitor if both are elves?

rook will say this;

"andaran atish'an" is considered a formal elven greeting

and lavellan will respond with

and "anetha ara" is not only considered an INFORMAL greeting but is also almost strictly used by the dalish amongst themselves

while lavellan is of course dalish - and rook can be too - my rook is a city elf (while that's not a set character option like in, say, origins, she bears no vallaslin and is kinda implied to be a city elf, not dalish, in the rest of the game)

of course it does make total sense for someone, even rook, to greet the inquisitor formally, them being you know the world's saviour and a person of prestige either way, even if the inquisition was disbanded (which was the case in my run here)

but something about lavellan responding "casually" is quite funny to me lol

[crimson-vow]

I'm enjoying the moment of peace while it lasts. — They're fleeting enough. Hang onto them when you can.

[sky-scribbles]

Clown makeup on, I'm descending into the Dragon Age pit again. So in preparation for Veilguard, I'm going to reintroduce my OCs thus far. (Thank you to @dalishious for the template!)

So here's Elera. She's visually impaired and uses her spirit magic as a mobility aid, allowing her to get a sense of her surroundings in a limited range. Yes, I came up with a narrative explanation for the D:AI search function.

[yourhornysister]

Ericsson’s gaze followed hers, but his words were quieter, almost regretful. “I understand more than you think, Elera.”

I NEED ELERA X ERICSSON RNNN THEY ARE ADORABLE OMGGG THE FLIRTATIOUS RIVALRY YET DEEP RESPEECT FOR EACH OTHER AHHH!!!! GOODBYE IM GONR IFJEINXJUENUEN

Echoes of a Thousand Nights

Yandere Vampire x AFAB reader

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8

Description: For centuries, Alaric has walked the earth, bound by the cruel hand of fate. A vampire of old blood, he has seen empires fall, lovers turn to dust, and the world reshape itself around him. Yet, through the endless nights, one thing remains constant—her. The woman who haunts his past lives, slipping through his fingers with every rebirth. She never remembers, never knows who he is, yet he finds her, lifetime after lifetime, only to lose her again.Now, in the present day, her scent resurfaces in the most unlikely of places—an underground auction house where humans are sold like cattle. But Alaric will not let fate steal her away this time. This time, he will keep her.

The car rolled to a slow stop, against the cobblestone streets. Alaric, (Y/n), and Elera stepped out into the cool night air, the grandiose sight of the manor before them illuminated by flickering torchlight. The estate stood tall and imposing, its black stone walls bathed in the glow of soft golden light spilling from the windows. The smell of fresh roses from the garden mixed with the faint scent of blood from within, and the distant hum of conversations echoed out across the grounds.

Elera was the first to step out of the carriage, grinning as she took in the lavish scene. She loved these kinds of gatherings. "Well, well, looks like the night’s already buzzing." She cast a knowing glance at Alaric before turning to (Y/n), her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don’t worry, you’ll do just fine."

Alaric had his gaze trained on the doors, his jaw set, his eyes scanning the sea of vampires walking about in their evening attire. He adjusted his coat, checking to ensure everything was in place before he offered (Y/n) his arm. “Shall we?”

Her heart skipped at the gesture, though she tried not to show it. She hesitated for a moment, looking at the vast estate, the sounds of laughter and music mixing in the air. There was a certain heaviness that clung to her chest, the memory of the auction house whispering in her mind like an old ghost.

“(Y/n)?” Alaric’s voice brought her back to the present, and when she lifted her eyes to his, she saw nothing but sincerity.

“You’re safe here,” he said softly, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

Her breath caught. She knew the truth of his words, but something still lingered, a thread of doubt gnawing at the edges of her resolve. She looked away for just a moment before taking his arm, offering him a small, yet grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Together, they walked toward the entrance, the sounds of the night becoming clearer the closer they got. Music spilled from inside, a delicate waltz that blended perfectly with the soft murmur of voices. The doors opened before them, revealing a grand hall, its walls adorned with fine art and gold-trimmed chandeliers.

The other guests were already mingling, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Vampires and humans alike, although the majority of the guests were of the former, had gathered in their finest attire. Women wore dresses that shimmered in the dim light, their jewels catching the glow. Men in tailored suits and long coats stood in small clusters, discussing matters of business and politics.

As they entered, Elera gave (Y/n) a knowing wink, clearly enjoying the discomfort (Y/n) couldn’t entirely hide. Alaric, too, could sense her unease, though he remained close, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back as they moved deeper into the ballroom.

Once inside, a vampire attendant came over with a polite smile, greeting them and offering them refreshments. Elera, ever the social butterfly, immediately began to mingle, leaving Alaric and (Y/n) to navigate the room.

“You look beautiful,” Alaric said quietly, his voice low, just for her. “I’m glad you decided to come.” He wasn’t sure if it was more for her sake or his, but as he said it, his fingers brushed against hers in a subtle, reassuring touch.

(Y/n) smiled faintly, grateful, but still on edge. The laughter and music felt distant to her, as though they were on the outside looking in. She felt out of place, like an intruder.

"Let's just take it slow," Alaric murmured, sensing her discomfort. "We can stay here for a bit and then leave whenever you're ready."

It wasn’t much of a plan, but the reassurance in his tone made her feel a little lighter.

They made their way to a quieter corner of the ballroom, where a small group of vampires stood conversing. Alaric kept a protective but subtle distance from her, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd, always vigilant. And though she hadn’t realized it yet, the tension in the air began to slowly dissipate, her heart less heavy now that he was close.

But it wasn’t until he looked at her, those dark eyes of his soft and filled with something she couldn't quite define, that (Y/n) realized she wasn’t as alone in this space as she thought. Maybe, just maybe, she could find a place here, beside him.

The soft strains of the orchestra filled the air, the music floating like a dream, weaving through the room in delicate waltzes. Alaric and (Y/n) found themselves drawn to the dance floor once more, the atmosphere around them feeling almost surreal. The crowd moved in fluidity around them, but for a moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of them, surrounded by the hum of the music and the quiet click of their shoes on the polished floor.

Alaric held her close, his hand steady on the small of her back as they moved together, a practiced ease to his steps. His presence was like a steady anchor, keeping her grounded, and despite her initial nerves, she found herself relaxing, letting the rhythm take over.

"How are you finding it so far?" Alaric asked, his voice low, just for her. His eyes never left hers, watching her closely as if gauging her every move.

She took a breath, glancing around the ballroom. It was opulent, grandiose, but it also felt overwhelming, the sea of vampires swirling around them, all with their own intentions and secrets. "It’s... different," she said, a hint of nervous laughter in her voice. "I never imagined I'd be at a place like this." She caught his gaze, her lips quivering into a small smile. "Not in a million years."

Alaric’s lips twitched, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I can imagine this is quite the contrast from where you were before." His eyes softened, though a faint glimmer of something darker flickered beneath the surface. "But I’m glad you’re here."

She nodded, her eyes moving back to the sea of dancers. The chandeliers overhead cast golden light, and the dark windows revealed the moonlit night beyond, but all she could focus on was the sensation of Alaric’s touch, the warmth and steadiness of him guiding her through the dance.

“I never thought I would be able to walk into a room like this," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes it still feels like I'm pretending."

Alaric’s gaze softened even further, and for a moment, he said nothing, simply guiding her through the steps, as if the act of dancing itself was a form of reassurance.

"You’re not pretending," he finally murmured, his hand tightening slightly on hers. "You belong here, (Y/n), just as you belong with me." His voice held a certain gravity, a sincerity that was impossible to mistake. "This... is your life now."

She didn’t know what to say to that, and the only thing she could offer him in return was the gentle squeeze of his hand, her heart fluttering with a feeling she hadn’t been ready for.

They danced in silence for a moment, the music shifting subtly, becoming a little more lively, the rhythm quickening as the tempo of the orchestra increased. Alaric’s steps became more fluid, more precise, as he led her into a lively spin, her laughter breaking free as she followed his lead.

For just a moment, she let herself go, letting the music carry her, feeling as though she were floating on air. Alaric’s hand never wavered, always steady, always guiding.

As the song swirled around them, they found themselves at the edge of the ballroom, the music fading into a soft background hum, leaving the two of them momentarily alone in their small bubble.

"Alaric," she said, her voice almost uncertain, "do you ever feel... like you’re being watched? Like everyone in this room knows something you don’t?"

His lips curled into a subtle smile. "I’ve been alive long enough to understand that everyone in a room like this is watching, whether they admit it or not."

A flicker of something passed through her, and she tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. "And you don’t mind it? You seem... unbothered."

He gave her a brief, knowing glance. "I don’t mind it because I know how to handle it. And besides..." His voice dropped to a near whisper, a playful gleam in his eyes. "There’s only one pair of eyes I need to worry about tonight."

Her heart skipped a beat. The words were gentle, almost teasing, but there was an underlying sincerity in them that sent warmth rushing to her cheeks.

Before she could say anything more, a soft chuckle broke through their bubble of quiet. Elera, who had quietly approached them during their dance, was now standing at the edge of the floor, her smile wide and full of amusement.

"Don’t get too comfortable, Alaric," Elera teased, her voice light but knowing. "I’m sure there are plenty of other ‘watchful eyes’ here for you."

Alaric shot her a look, his posture stiffening slightly, but there was a calmness in his eyes that told (Y/n) he wasn’t truly concerned. His gaze remained locked on her, the playful edge in his expression never fading.

"Let them watch," he said, his words soft but firm. "But I’m only dancing with one person tonight."

Elera let out a dramatic sigh, her eyes rolling playfully as she shook her head. "Of course, of course. But just remember, you’re not the only one who has a claim to her."

With that, she disappeared back into the crowd, leaving them to continue their dance in peace.

(Y/n) blinked, the fluttering in her chest returning, though now it was mixed with something else—something deeper, something unspoken. As the music swirled around them again, she felt more certain, more grounded than she had in a long time.

At this moment, nothing else mattered. It was just her and Alaric, moving in time with the music, lost in the rhythm of their own world.

The music gradually slowed, the tempo easing into a peaceful lull as the dance came to its natural end. Alaric’s hand remained on her waist, his fingers warm and steady, keeping her close even as the final notes of the orchestra filled the air. The room around them still buzzed with energy, but the intensity of the dance had left them both slightly breathless.

"You’ve been amazing," Alaric said, his voice soft, almost in awe as he gently guided her away from the center of the floor. His touch was comforting, reassuring, as if the dance had left him in need of grounding as much as she did.

She laughed softly, her breath still coming in little gasps from the exertion. "I think I was stumbling around more than anything."

He gave her a look—half teasing, half indulgent. "Hardly. You were perfect."

They made their way toward the edge of the ballroom, where a quiet alcove had been set up with plush chairs and soft lighting. The soft hum of conversation drifted in the air, and the smell of various delicacies being served wafted toward them.

Alaric paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the room before turning to her. "You’ve danced long enough for one evening. Let’s eat, and then perhaps you can rest for a bit."

She nodded, grateful for the suggestion, feeling her limbs finally beginning to grow heavy from the evening’s events. "I don’t think I could dance any longer even if I tried," she admitted, a small chuckle slipping from her lips.

Alaric smiled warmly, his gaze lingering on her for just a moment longer than necessary. "Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to." He offered her his arm, a subtle but inviting gesture that she gladly accepted, her hand resting gently in the crook of his arm.

Together, they walked through the opulent halls of the manor, the sound of their shoes echoing softly in the quiet space. The more they moved away from the grand ballroom, the quieter it became, and soon they were outside in the cool night air, walking toward a secluded garden area just behind the manor. A long table had been set up under the stars, decorated with candles and flowers, the scene looking more intimate and peaceful than the lavish festivities inside.

Alaric gestured toward a seat. "Please, sit. I’ll get you something to eat. You’ve earned it." His voice held a subtle tenderness, one that was rare and genuine.

She sat, feeling the warmth of the night’s atmosphere settle around her like a soft embrace. As she glanced up at Alaric, she couldn’t help but notice how much more relaxed he seemed in this quieter setting, away from the eyes of the grand event.

"You’ve been running around all night," she said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Are you sure you’re not tired?"

His lips quivered upward, though his gaze softened with affection. "I’m more concerned about you, (Y/n). Tonight’s been a lot. You should take a moment to rest. You’ve been amazing."

Before she could respond, a servant appeared with a plate of delicate food, placing it before her with a small bow. She smiled politely, the simple act of kindness reminding her of how different her life had become since coming here. Alaric had made sure she felt comfortable, safe, in a way she hadn’t known in years.

"Thank you," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of gratitude she didn’t often voice. "This is nice."

Alaric took a seat beside her, his presence comforting, like the calm after a storm. He didn’t speak at first, letting her enjoy her meal in silence. The soft clink of cutlery and the distant hum of the party was all that could be heard between them.

After a moment, he glanced over at her, watching her carefully. "How are you feeling?"

She glanced up at him, meeting his gaze with a thoughtful look. "Better. The dancing… It was overwhelming at first, but you were right. I’m glad I did it." Her voice was soft, but there was a hint of genuine warmth there.

He leaned back slightly, folding his arms across his chest, but his eyes never left her. "I’m glad, too. But remember, you don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. Take your time."

She nodded, feeling a strange sense of comfort in his words. The calmness between them felt different than it had before—more intimate, more genuine. She realized that, despite the layers of history and tension between them, Alaric had somehow become a constant presence in her life, a steady force she hadn’t realized she needed.

The evening carried on with ease, the food and wine softening her nerves further, and soon the conversation shifted to lighter topics. They spoke of everything and nothing, the quiet rhythm of the night lulling them into a comfortable familiarity that neither had expected but both appreciated.

As the night deepened, the sounds of the banquet softened in the distance, and Alaric offered her a final, lingering glance, his gaze filled with affection. "You can rest here as long as you need. No one will disturb you."

She smiled, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn’t known in a long time. "Thank you, Alaric. This... this has been a strange night, but I’m glad I’m here."

His smile, though small, was soft and full of understanding. "I’m glad, too."

And as they sat in the tranquil garden, the world seemed to pause around them, leaving them both in a quiet space of peace—just the two of them, sharing an unspoken moment of calm amidst the chaos of the evening.

The music swelled around them, a soft, melodic flow that was almost hypnotic. The atmosphere of the banquet was supposed to be soothing, yet Alaric couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with (Y/n). Her posture had stiffened again, her gaze flicking to the crowd, a subtle unease taking hold of her. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her eyes darted from face to face in the crowd, though she wasn’t truly seeing them.

Alaric, ever watchful, noticed the change in her immediately. He had been so absorbed in the way she looked tonight, the way she glided effortlessly through the crowd beside him, that he hadn’t noticed the discomfort that was growing in her. The smell of blood—the deep, intoxicating scent of vampires—had shifted, and he realized she must have caught the scent too.

He took a step closer to her, his voice low and gentle, careful not to make her feel singled out.

“You’re not enjoying this, are you?” His tone wasn’t a question; it was an observation. He could feel the tension radiating off her.

She hesitated, glancing up at him briefly, her eyes betraying the quiet battle she was waging within herself. There was a flicker of fear in them, quickly masked by a forced smile.

“I’m fine, Alaric,” she said, but her voice lacked its usual strength, a note of uncertainty creeping in.

Alaric’s eyes narrowed as he looked around the ballroom. It was too easy for a human to feel overwhelmed here, surrounded by so many vampires, many of whom had no care for how their presence affected someone like (Y/n). The scent of blood, the hum of conversation, the overwhelming pressure—it was a lot to take in, especially for someone who had lived through the horrors of being sold like cattle.

He could smell the blood rising in the air as more vampires filtered through the room, each one more intoxicating than the last. He knew it was difficult for her to be here, with that lingering fear still gripping her heart from the auction house.

Before she could protest, Alaric placed a gentle hand on her arm, his touch grounding, steadying her.

“Let’s take a walk, hm?” he suggested quietly. “A scroll outside, perhaps. You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

She looked at him for a moment, as if measuring his sincerity, before nodding. A breath she hadn’t realized she was holding escaped her as she followed him out of the ballroom. They made their way toward the grand doors leading outside, Alaric’s hand never leaving the small of her back, guiding her with careful precision.

As they stepped into the cool night air, a slight breeze ruffled (Y/n)’s dress, and for the first time since they’d arrived, she felt her shoulders relax. The suffocating weight of the banquet hall lifted off her chest. Her breaths came a little easier, her heart rate steadying.

Alaric slowed his pace, letting her catch up with him as they moved toward the garden that stretched out before them. The sounds of the banquet faded, replaced by the chirping of distant night creatures and the soft rustling of leaves in the wind.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer now, no longer commanding or imposing, but quiet and sincere. “I should have noticed sooner. I don’t want you to feel trapped in there.”

She looked at him, surprised by his empathy. It was rare for someone in his position to even notice the discomfort of a human, let alone try to soothe it.

“I didn’t want to ruin the night,” she admitted, her voice small. “I’ve never been to something like this... it’s overwhelming.”

He nodded, understanding. “It’s a lot to take in. No one should have to endure that feeling. Not if they don’t want to.”

They continued walking through the garden, the soft light of the moon illuminating their path. The night air was fresh, and (Y/n) felt herself starting to relax again, the tension in her shoulders easing with each step. She was grateful for Alaric’s presence, his quiet understanding.

She glanced up at him, her voice steady as she spoke, “Thank you.”

Alaric smiled faintly, a rare softness in his expression. “You don’t need to thank me. Just promise me you’ll tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable again. I’d rather take a walk through the gardens than watch you suffer in there.”

She smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest. For the first time in a long while, she felt truly cared for—not as a commodity, not as something to be used, but as someone who was seen and protected.

“Deal,” she said, looking up at the stars.

They walked in silence for a while, the atmosphere around them calm and peaceful, before Alaric finally spoke again, his voice quieter than before.

“If you ever need to leave early... or if this all gets too much, we can go. You don’t have to stay here longer than you’re comfortable with.”

(Y/n) looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes making her heart flutter. “I know. And that means more to me than you realize.”

As they continued their stroll, the night felt less suffocating, and for the first time, (Y/n) felt like she could breathe again. And it was because of him—Alaric, who had noticed, who cared.

The garden stretched out before them, bathed in the soft light of the moon, the air cool and fresh against their skin. The scent of roses, lavender, and damp earth filled the air, grounding (Y/n) with every step.

She walked in quiet comfort beside him, the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet the only sound accompanying them. There was no pressure, no looming expectations—just the serene peace of the night around them.

Alaric kept his gaze ahead, though his attention was clearly on her. He knew this was a delicate balance—allowing her to have space without losing sight of her, ensuring she felt protected, not confined. His stride was slow, purposeful, and he glanced at her every so often, watching as her tense shoulders gradually relaxed, her steps becoming more measured, more confident with each passing moment.

“You look better,” he said after a few moments, his voice a bit quieter, softer in the calm of the garden. “A little more at ease.”

She didn’t respond right away, her eyes drawn to the delicate flowers in full bloom around them. She let herself enjoy the simple beauty of the garden, the peace it offered. It was strange—she had never felt such a deep sense of comfort in such a place before, especially not in the presence of someone who could be so intimidating if he wanted to be.

“I’ve never been outside like this,” she finally admitted, her voice thoughtful. “Not without fear of... someone chasing me. Or hunting me.”

Alaric’s gaze softened, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. It wasn’t lost on him how much she had been through. He had learned bits and pieces of her history, the darkness that had followed her, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine the weight of it all.

“You’re not being hunted here, (Y/n),” he said gently, his voice almost a whisper. “Not by anyone. Not by me.”

She glanced up at him then, surprised by the intensity in his voice. There was no jest, no challenge, just pure sincerity. And there, for a fleeting moment, she saw a side of him she hadn’t quite expected—a quiet, unspoken depth, one that held the same weight as the vows of protection he had made to her earlier.

“Thank you,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Alaric gave her a small nod, his hand brushing gently against hers for just a second. His fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach out fully, but he didn’t. He respected her space, and perhaps, that was the most intimate gesture of all.

The silence that followed was comfortable, soothing. They continued walking through the garden, side by side, each step taking them further away from the chaos of the banquet. (Y/n) felt herself unwind more, the tension in her chest slowly dissipating.

“It’s... beautiful out here,” she said quietly, her voice a little more relaxed now. “I didn’t expect this from a place like this.”

Alaric glanced over at her, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “There’s more to this place than what you’ve seen so far. I could show you the entire estate, if you’d like. Some of the rooms inside, the view from the tower—there’s much more than just the halls of that banquet.”

She smiled back at him, the idea of exploring more of the manor appealing to her. But it wasn’t just the idea of the estate that drew her in; it was the simple, shared moment between them. It wasn’t about the opulence of the place or the politics of the vampires. It was about this—the peace, the quiet, the chance to be herself, without the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“I’d like that,” she said, glancing at him with a soft, genuine smile.

For a long moment, they simply walked, enjoying the quiet stillness of the garden. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting shadows and highlighting the soft curve of flowers and foliage. The scent of the earth and flowers was calming, reminding (Y/n) of simpler times, of places she had never known but somehow longed for.

As they reached the far end of the garden, where the path curved to reveal a small, tranquil pond, Alaric stopped, glancing at her with a careful expression.

“You know,” he began, his voice low, “you don’t need to pretend with me. I can see when you’re not comfortable. And you don’t have to force yourself to be okay all the time.”

Her gaze flicked to him in surprise, his words striking a chord within her. She wasn’t sure what it was—whether it was the honesty in his tone or the kindness he had shown her since she arrived—but for the first time, she felt like she could actually trust someone to not see her as fragile. To not view her as something to be fixed.

“I know,” she whispered, her fingers absently tracing the edge of a nearby stone. “But sometimes, I don’t know how to be anything but what I’ve always been.”

Alaric’s gaze softened further, and without thinking, he placed his hand lightly on her shoulder, a firm, reassuring touch. “Then let me show you another way. You’re not alone anymore. Not here.”

Her breath caught in her chest at his words, and for a moment, she let herself sink into the comfort of them, allowing herself to believe—if only for a fleeting moment—that maybe she wasn’t alone. Not really.

They stood there for a while longer, the quiet hum of the garden surrounding them as they both silently processed the rare peace between them. And in that moment, (Y/n) couldn’t help but feel a small shift within herself. Maybe, just maybe, she could learn to live again.

The cool evening air had begun to settle, the warmth of the banquet now a distant memory. (Y/n) shivered slightly, the chill of the night seeping into her bones as they stood by the pond, the moon reflecting off the still water. She wasn’t used to being outside for this long, especially in the presence of so many unfamiliar things. The quiet, peaceful atmosphere of the garden was comforting, but the cold had a way of creeping in, reminding her of the world outside this sanctuary.

Without a word, Alaric glanced down at her, noticing the subtle tremor in her movements. His eyes softened, his expression unreadable for a brief moment before he moved closer. He had been silent for a while now, lost in thought as he watched her, and he wasn’t sure if it was the cool night air or something else that had caused the shift in her demeanor. Either way, he wasn’t about to let her stand there in discomfort.

Before she could say a word, Alaric reached for his coat. In one swift motion, he draped it over her shoulders, the fabric warm from his body, and she was immediately enveloped in its comforting weight. The deep, rich scent of him lingered in the coat’s fibers, a reminder of his presence.

“Here,” he said softly, his voice low as he adjusted the coat around her shoulders. His fingers brushed lightly against her skin as he did so, a fleeting touch that left an undeniable warmth behind. “It’s not much, but it should help.”

She looked up at him, surprised by his thoughtfulness. “You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t,” he interrupted gently, his hand lingering on the coat for a moment longer than necessary. His gaze softened, a flicker of something unspoken in his eyes. “But you shouldn’t have to feel cold.”

The sincerity in his tone was impossible to ignore, and for a moment, (Y/n) felt an overwhelming sense of safety and warmth radiating from him. The coat was heavy, but it was more than just the fabric that provided comfort. It was the quiet protection that came with it, the unspoken promise that he would ensure she was taken care of.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she looked down, her fingers brushing the fabric of his coat as she instinctively pulled it tighter around herself. “Thank you, Alaric.”

His gaze softened, and there was something almost unreadable in the way he watched her, his eyes lingering on her for a moment too long. He had been doing his best to maintain control, to keep his distance and remain composed, but seeing her so vulnerable, so genuine in that moment, made it harder than ever.

He cleared his throat, pulling himself out of the trance he had fallen into. “Let’s get you back inside,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “I think you’ve had enough of the cold for tonight.”

As he guided her back toward the manor, his hand brushed against hers for the briefest moment, a silent reassurance. He couldn’t help but feel the desire to protect her, to make sure she was safe, and that feeling seemed to settle deep within him as they walked in step.

The grandeur of the banquet hall loomed ahead, the doors opening in front of them, and yet, despite the overwhelming luxury and the crowd of vampires waiting inside, Alaric found that he didn’t mind the quiet of the garden so much. He didn’t mind the peace they had shared in those fleeting moments, away from the expectations of the night.

As they stepped through the threshold, Alaric’s hand once again brushed against hers, guiding her inside. The warmth of the room was a stark contrast to the chill of the garden, but the presence of the crowd, the vibrant energy of the banquet, didn’t seem as important now. Not with her by his side.

“Ready to head back in?” he asked, his voice softer, almost as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of them in that moment.

She gave him a small nod, her eyes meeting his. There was something different in her expression, a quiet understanding that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps it was the night, the solitude of the garden, or the kindness he had shown her, but whatever it was, it had allowed a crack in the wall she had built up around herself.

“I think I am,” she replied, her voice steady now, more at ease. She smiled up at him, her fingers still lightly gripping the coat around her.

Alaric’s heart gave a small, almost imperceptible lurch at the sight of her smile, and for the briefest moment, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to trust him—just a little more.

And as they walked back into the heart of the banquet, he felt a quiet contentment settle in his chest. Whatever the night held, whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them all by her side. And that was enough.

The grand ballroom was alive with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses, the soft strains of the orchestra weaving through the air. Elera stood by the edge of the room, a glass of wine in hand, her eyes scanning the crowd. The flicker of candlelight on crystal chandeliers reflected in her amused gaze as she observed the various guests mingling and exchanging pleasantries. Despite the vibrant atmosphere, she seemed detached from it all, her focus narrowing on a single person.

Alaric.

He had been dutifully playing his part, moving among the guests with a perfect air of grace, his gaze flickering back toward (Y/n) now and then, a soft tenderness in his movements. But it wasn’t long before Elera’s sharp eyes caught the moment he and (Y/n) quietly slipped out of the ballroom, walking away from the cacophony of conversation, slipping into the garden outside.

Elera couldn’t help the small, knowing smile that tugged at her lips.

She didn’t need to follow them; she knew exactly what was happening. Alaric was smitten—utterly. And (Y/n) was beginning to fall, whether she realized it or not. It was sweet, really. The way the two of them danced around their feelings. But there was something oddly tragic about it too.

She took another sip of her wine, continuing to watch them as they disappeared into the night. The warmth of the room, the chatter, the laughter, all faded into a soft hum in her ears as her attention remained focused on Alaric and (Y/n).

It wasn’t long before Elera felt a presence beside her. She turned to find Ericsson standing by her side, a quiet smile on his lips as he studied her quietly, his eyes flickering to the couple who had just left the room. His gaze lingered for a moment before meeting hers.

“Still watching them?” he asked, amusement evident in his voice.

Elera’s smile only widened, her gaze never leaving the door they had exited through. “I think you already know the answer to that,” she replied, the words almost playful, but there was an edge to them. “It’s quite a show, isn’t it?”

Ericsson chuckled, swirling his glass of wine. “Quite the spectacle. Though I never understood Alaric’s obsession with the same woman. Why keep chasing her? Time and time again, with no hope of ever truly having her.”

Elera arched a brow, her expression both curious and slightly teasing. “And you think you would fare any better?”

Ericsson gave a small, sardonic grin, his gaze turning thoughtful as he swirled the wine in his glass again, watching the liquid move in the crystal. “Not the point. I don’t think he’ll ever truly get what he wants. Why waste so much time, so much patience? He’s already poured years into this.”

Elera's lips curled up into a knowing smile, one that held a quiet sympathy. “That’s where you’re wrong, Ericsson. It’s because of his patience that he’ll succeed. It’s what makes him... Alaric.” She gave a light shrug, her fingers gently holding the base of her glass. “He’s not the sort of man who gives up so easily. And (Y/n)... well, she’s beginning to notice him.”

Ericsson scoffed lightly. “I’m not so sure. She still looks at him like she’s studying a foreign creature, unsure of whether it’s safe to approach or not.”

Elera sighed dramatically, her eyes rolling slightly. “She’s scared, yes, but what does that matter? The truth is, deep down, she’s already become fond of him. She’s just too proud to admit it. But give it time,” she said with a soft smile, her voice gentle, almost affectionate. “They just need a little nudge. That’s all.”

Ericsson’s expression darkened slightly. “And what if that nudge... that patience... is wasted? What if it ends up in ruin for them both?” His voice lowered, a hint of bitterness seeping into his words. “He’ll continue pouring all his devotion into someone who will never be his. It’s almost pathetic.”

Elera met his gaze, her expression shifting into something more contemplative. “No, Ericsson. It’s not pathetic. It’s love, in its rawest, most honest form. If you ask me, it’s beautiful.” She looked back towards the door, her smile still small but knowing. “And if he has to suffer for it, then so be it. What is life without sacrifice?”

Ericsson was quiet for a moment, the weight of her words hanging in the air between them. His gaze, cold and sharp, turned once more to the doorway where Alaric and (Y/n) had disappeared. “Perhaps. But you and I both know that this kind of love can destroy a man.”

Elera looked at him then, her eyes soft yet unwavering. “Then let it. At least he will know he gave everything he had. And that, my dear Ericsson, is something that cannot be taken away.”

Her voice had softened, but there was an undeniable strength in it. A conviction that was rare to see in her.

Ericsson stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he let out a small, resigned sigh. “I still don’t understand it.”

Elera chuckled lightly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “You don’t need to. Sometimes, it’s the things we can’t understand that make life so very interesting.”

Elera continued to sip her wine, her gaze focused on the doorway where Alaric and (Y/n) had just exited the hall. A small, amused smile played on her lips as she watched their retreat. The atmosphere was buzzing with laughter and music, but her attention was elsewhere.

He leaned casually against the pillar beside her, his eyes tracing the path Alaric had taken. “Seems like Alaric’s finally figured out that he can’t hide his feelings for her,” he commented, a slight smirk on his face.

Elera didn’t immediately respond, but her smile deepened as she took another slow sip of her drink. Finally, she turned toward him, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“You have an awful way of trying to catch my attention, you know?” she said, her voice teasing but also carrying a note of something more serious. “Pushing Alaric’s buttons like that. It’s almost like you enjoy watching him squirm.”

Ericsson’s expression didn’t falter, though there was a flicker of something dark in his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, feigning innocence. But the edge in his tone gave away his true feelings. “I’m just... encouraging him to wake up and face reality.”

Elera raised an eyebrow, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Encouraging him? That’s one way to put it. You know, if you weren’t so determined to make everything a challenge, maybe he wouldn’t be so... restless.” Her gaze drifted back to where Alaric had vanished with (Y/n). “He’s been holding back for so long, and you’re only pushing him further.”

Ericsson didn’t respond immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly. He seemed to weigh her words before speaking again, his tone quieter. “You really think he’ll ever have her? She’s... human. And he’s a vampire.” His words dripped with a certain bitterness, almost as if he were trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.

Elera’s smile softened, and her voice dropped to a more serious note. “Alaric doesn’t think like that. He doesn’t care about the barriers. If anything, the fact that she’s human makes it all the more...” She paused, her words lingering in the air. “...complicated. But that’s what makes it real.”

Ericsson scoffed, but there was a crack in his demeanor, an unspoken doubt. “It’s all just a game to him. All this chasing and waiting. She won’t last, Elera. He’ll lose her in the end, and he’ll be left with nothing.”

Elera looked at him thoughtfully, her gaze softening. “You don’t understand, do you? This isn’t a game. It’s never been for him. And it won’t be for her either. They—both of them—they’re real with each other. And sometimes... sometimes, that’s enough. Even if it hurts.”

She took another sip of her wine, as if savoring the thought of it all, before adding with a quiet but knowing smile, “But, of course, you’ll never get it. You prefer to be the one who stirs the pot, not the one who’s standing by when it finally boils over.”

Ericsson’s lips tightened, but his expression remained unreadable. He looked away, his gaze scanning the crowd. “I’m just saying... sooner or later, they’ll both realize how foolish this all is.”

Elera shook her head slightly, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. “You have no patience, Ericsson. It’s not about ‘getting it’ right away. It’s about the slow burn... and Alaric’s been patient enough to wait. He’s not going anywhere.”

With that, Elera turned her attention back to the hallway, her thoughts lingering on Alaric and (Y/n). A moment passed before she spoke again, her voice almost gentle. “You’ll see. In the end, it’s always the quiet devotion that wins out.”

“Alaric’s patience is something, isn’t it?” Ericsson said, appearing beside her, his gaze following the same path she’d been fixated on.“There’s nothing special about it. People always think they can wait forever, but eventually they’ll get tired of it.”

Elera leaned against the railing, her eyes dancing as she watched Alaric and (Y/n) from afar. They were talking in the garden, the soft moonlight accentuating the elegance of their movements. There was something magnetic about the way they were together, something that made Elera’s smile linger.

The familiar sound of footsteps behind her reached her ears, and a slight smirk curled her lips. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Ericsson stood beside her, his gaze following hers. “You know,” he began, his voice low and measured, “you’re awfully fond of watching them.”

Elera arched an eyebrow, her smirk never fading. “Am I? I hadn’t noticed.”

Ericsson’s lips twisted into a knowing grin. “It’s quite obvious. You admire them, don’t you?”

Elera took a slow sip of her wine, not taking her eyes off the pair in the garden. “Admire?” she mused, her tone playful. “I suppose you could say that. They make a rather… beautiful picture, don’t they?”

“Is that all?” Ericsson's voice was laced with sarcasm, his eyes glinting with challenge. “I would think you’d have more to say about it, considering how much time you’ve spent keeping an eye on them.”

Elera finally turned her head, her gaze locking with his. Her smile widened just a fraction. “Oh, I’m sure you’d like me to say more. You’re always so eager to get a rise out of me, Ericsson.”

He leaned in slightly, his presence magnetic as he spoke, his voice just above a whisper. “I’d like you to be honest with me. What do you really think about them?”

Elera’s eyes twinkled as she replied, “I think Alaric has the patience of a saint. He’s been chasing her for weeks now, never giving up, even when it’s clear she’s hesitant. It’s sweet, in a way. Devotion like that doesn’t come around often.”

Ericsson let out a small, bitter laugh. “Patience? Chasing the same woman over and over again? Sounds like a fool’s errand to me. There’s nothing special about it. People like that always end up disappointed.”

Elera’s smile turned playful, a touch of mischief in her eyes. “You’re awfully bitter when it comes to matters of love and devotion.”

Ericsson straightened, a challenge flashing in his eyes. “And what about you, Elera? What do you know about devotion?” His voice was almost teasing now, his proximity causing a spark of tension between them. “You seem to have your own little ways of playing games, don’t you?”

Her laugh was soft, but it held an edge of confidence. “I play my games, but not in the way you think. I know what I want, Ericsson. I just don’t need to prove it to anyone.”

“Is that so?” He leaned in a little closer, a half-smile on his lips. “Maybe you just enjoy keeping people on their toes. Maybe you want them to think you’re untouchable.”

Elera’s smile didn’t falter. “And maybe I just enjoy keeping you guessing.” Her voice was sweet, but her eyes held a challenge in them. “After all, it’s so much more fun that way.”

Ericsson’s grin deepened, his eyes narrowing. “You know,” he said, a trace of something darker in his voice, “you’re not quite as elusive as you think. I can see through the games you play. You want something more.”

Elera tilted her head slightly, her gaze never wavering from his. “Perhaps. But I don’t have to tell you everything, do I?”

The air between them seemed to crackle with tension, the flirtatious rivalry undeniable. Yet, even as they exchanged playful barbs, their eyes never strayed far from Alaric and (Y/n), who were now walking back toward the banquet hall, the moonlight casting a soft glow on them.

Elera’s expression softened just slightly as she watched them, her smile more genuine. “But you’re wrong about Alaric,” she said quietly, her voice almost tender. “He’s not a fool. He’s devoted. And that’s something you’ll never understand.”

Ericsson’s gaze followed hers, but his words were quieter, almost regretful. “I understand more than you think, Elera.”

For a moment, the two of them stood side by side, the air between them charged with the unspoken history of their rivalry, their flirtations, and their shared admiration for the couple in the garden. Yet, there was a lingering sense of something more beneath it all—a mutual respect, perhaps, or maybe something more complicated.

As Alaric and (Y/n) reentered the banquet hall, Elera’s smirk returned, her eyes glinting with amusement. “I think we’ve both said enough for now,” she said, her voice light. “Come on, Ericsson. Let’s see how this plays out.”

Ericsson didn’t respond right away, but as he followed her inside, there was a trace of something thoughtful in his eyes—something that might have hinted at a shift in his own perspective.

Taglist : @yune1337 @mybones537

[overboss]

replaying da and made some changes to miss el 🌱

[lcgacyofages]

petition for VG cutscenes to actually match the height you chose in the slider

[evangeline444]

4, 7, 11 for Lark

4. A letter from your OC to their love interest

[A letter found tucked into Melittas bedroll. It smells of fresh herbs and contains a pouch of healing salves and a single white falcon feather speckled with black.]

My love,

I hope this letter reaches you safely as I was unsure of where to send it until I wrote to Rion inquiring about your whereabouts. As frustrated as I am that I have not heard from you in so long, I am proud of the work you have been doing. I must remind you however that you do not often travel with a healer and as skilled as you are in magic, you are far from mastering healing. And if I know you—which I do—I know that you have been neglecting to care for your body properly so I have enclosed a few herbs and a poultice that should help with low Iron levels.

I ask that you write me back soon, I tire of hearing second hand of your adventures and I tire more so of having to hunt you down to find out how you are doing. I will not hesitate to ask that Rion keeps tabs on you if I must.

I do hope you are enjoying yourself, though I worry for you often. I have been kept incredibly busy between handling the transition of the Mage Rebellion and helping the Inquisitor. And of course there is no shortage of people in need of healing.

I understand we may see each other soon due to the Exalted Council. I would like to have a moment alone with you and Sammael if possible. I am considering joining Sammael as he travels with the Chargers for a bit, I feel I have been neglecting my skills as a battlemage for too long. I can only hope that I can still keep uo with them in my old age. Perhaps if you are agreeable to it you could join us as well, I have missed traveling with you and Sammael dearly.

Eljin seems to like the idea of seeing you again. She is perched at the head of my desk, pecking at my pen, She misses you and Sammael—though not as much as I of course,

Please write to me soon, I miss you (fiery temper and all) Until next we meet, for the love of the maker stay safe.

All my Heart,

Lark

7. Someone describing a time your OC hurt them

[A letter written by an unknown templar in Hasmal circle]

Don’t be a fool. The healer is a threat to us all. You were not there when he killed both the knight enchanter and one of the other templar recruits. He was wild with rage. He tore through our ranks like we were little more than toy soldiers. Nothing and no one could stop him. I was foolish to have believed I could stand against him simply because he was a healer. The scars littering my body and the near constant ache in my sword arm will remind me of that mistake for as long as I live. Keep that in mind before you consider joining the Knight Commander’s fools errand to hunt him down. I say just let him go, it will do us no good to die chasing him down.

11. Your OC’s description of their game’s events

[An entry from a journal found on Senior Enchanter Orricks desk in the infirmary.]

My dearest Nyra,

It has been some time since I last managed to write to you. Much has happened in the last few weeks. Truth be told I have had scarcely a moment to myself to think too much on what has transpired.

Haven is gone. Templars dawning red lyrium stormed our gates and overwhelmed us. The Herald--or rather the Inquisitor-- he risked his life to save everyone and nearly died in the process.

He is so young, Nyra. Only a few years older than little Elera would have been. He reminds me of her often. I think they would have gotten along and you would have adored him.

He is healing slowly but his duties never cease. It is clear to me he is exhausted and over worked. I only wish someone would listen when I attempt to impress upon them how important a smooth recovery is for him. But they all seem content to demand the world of a boy far too young to carry so much on his shoulders.

He already carries such guilt for the lives we lost at Haven. And I cannot deny that I too feel such guilt. We lost many in the encounter and we lose more each day due to insufficient space and lack of proper supplies. Even my healing can only do so much when I do not have the time to replenish my mana.

I have taken to sleeping in the infirmary they have set up for me and my patients. It is little more than a broom closet but I suppose it is better than nothing, at least for now. I struggle to sleep in a proper bed when I do not have you at my side and the need for a healer seems to be constant so it works best for all parties if I remain near.

[The entry stops abruptly as if the writers focus was pulled away and he simply forgot to continue]

Also including some other codexs a wrote a while back for funsies, mostly involving the circle Lark comes from in the Free Marches.

[I had heard about the Rebellion of Hasmal’s circle. I’m told it was a brutal stand off between the vigilant Templars and the rebelling mages. The Knight Commander of CoveaHold lost several good men in the battle and was severely injured, nearly losing his own life in the confrontation. By the time the rebellion was put down even the First Enchanter had been killed in the struggle, by a fellow mage no less. Supposedly the one who led the rebellion was a Senior Enchanter, the Healer of Coveahold. It is hard to believe a healer would easily kill so many, though of course what can be expected of a mage. -statement from an unnamed man in Hasmal village, 9:33 Dragon]

[It is said that Hasmal’s circle is one of the lucky ones. Perhaps this was true at one time, now it is a rotting dying thing. The mages here know it only as CaveaHold. I hear the people of the Free Marches call it the Bird Cage of Hasmal. Perhaps they are right. We mages are nothing more than pretty songbirds with clipped wings here. We sit in this crumbling tower, this dying tower, waiting for what? There is nothing waiting for us here. Our only hope… my only hope is to die so they may never clip my wings -a journal entry from an unnamed mage, 9:22 Dragon]