Recent content by Oryn

Oryn’s eyes narrowed as the catling appeared, its flame-touched skull flickering with eerie green light. He watched it with a quiet, unsettling fascination, his grip on the shadows around him tightening as if the air itself was thickening with the strange presence of the creature. His usual calm...

Oryn felt her movement before he saw it, a subtle shift in the air, the way her tension suddenly pulled her upright. He didn't flinch, didn't react in surprise, simply waited for her to make her decision. Her hand came out toward him, and his sharp gaze caught it mid-motion, not with hesitation...

Oryn watched her with the same quiet fascination he always did, like one might watch a flame flicker and dance, waiting to see if it would grow or sputter out. He huffed a quiet chuckle at her answer. "Fair enough," he conceded, though the corner of his lips twitched in amusement. 'What if...

Oryn dipped his chin in acknowledgment as the guard departed, watching until the fae disappeared from view. Only then did he turn, lazily pivoting on his heel to face Aethiriin once more. She was unraveling. He could see it in the way she held herself, in the way her body curled inward as if...

Oryn’s brow quirked as he watched Aethiriin sputter and retch, his head tilting slightly to one side. A flicker of something almost like concern ghosted across his face, but he made no move to help. She would either recover or she wouldn’t—either way, it was not his place to interfere. He opened...

The shadows were never silent. Not truly. They clung to him like living things, curled around his limbs, slithered over his skin like ink bleeding through water. Using them was second nature, as simple as breathing, but sustaining them—keeping them stretched so thin, wrapped not only around...

Oryn’s golden eyes observed her closely as she spoke, the subtle shift in her energy not lost on him. She had been angry—he could see that much—but now the anger was a receding tide, leaving behind something less volatile, less defined. He found that interesting, in the same way one might watch...

Oryn blinked, his expression unreadable as he watched her temper flare. He didn't flinch, nor did he recoil from the heat of her words. Instead, his golden gaze swept over her with something far more detached—curiosity. The kind that wasn’t swayed by emotion but rather dissected it, studied it...

Oryn hummed low in his throat, an almost knowing sound, though whether it was agreement or amusement was unclear. His golden eyes lingered on her, searching, as if he could glimpse the shape of the questions that haunted her—unspoken yet heavy in the space between them. "The truth," he echoed...

Oryn's golden eyes shifted to Aethiriin, studying her as she spoke. He could feel the weight of her words, the frustration and sadness mingling in her voice. He remained quiet for a beat longer than necessary, sensing the unspoken tension. "Your Godmother," he repeated, his tone quiet but...

Oryn's golden eyes gleamed as she asked if she could keep his shadows, his brow arched slightly, and a playful smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I... suppose you can," he replied, his voice carrying a note of surprise. He had never given anyone his shadows before, and the thought of it...

Oryn watched her with a quiet amusement as she marveled at the shadows that now adorned her like a living garment. Her delight was infectious, a rare spark in the otherwise somber landscape of his existence. "They like you.." he rumbled, speaking of his shadows as though they had a mind of their...

Oryn's gaze, like molten gold, followed the graceful arc of her approach, drawn to the porcelain delicacy of her features. His expression softened with a quiet amusement, mirth dancing at the corners of his lips. Her smile was an unexpected and precious gift. He didn't know her, and yet it...

Oryn felt the weight of the title settle upon him, a tangible force imbued with Midir's magic. The words he spoke resonated through his being, filling the hollow spaces left by his brother's betrayal and the suffering he'd endured. He straightened further, shoulders squaring as he accepted this...

For a long moment, he felt the abyss of madness tugging at him, threatening to swallow him whole. The revelation of his brother's betrayal cut deeper than any physical wound he had endured. A part of him wanted to crumble, to give in to the despair and rage boiling inside him. But then, another...