Aideon looks like someone who has felt everything… and survived it. Waterlings king, age 43, height 5 '10.
His eyes are a warm, deep brown, but they don't feel light. They carry, memory, pain and restraint
There's a softness to them, but it's not weakness—it's the kind of softness that comes from holding back something powerful.
The faint tear trailing down his face doesn't make him look fragile.
It makes him look dangerously human.
A strong but not overly sharp jaw A slightly tired expression, like he doesn't sleep much Subtle stubble that adds to his grounded, real presence
Nothing about him is exaggerated.And that's what makes him feel real… and trustworthy.
His long, dark brown hair falls loosely around his face, slightly unkempt, as if shaped by wind itself. It gives him a constant sense of motion—even when he's completely still.
A storm when pushed
He doesn't explode.He builds. The kind of man who stays quiet… until everything around him breaks.
Rell is precision. King of spirits, age 42 and 6 '0. Everything about him feels intentional—refined, controlled, dangerous in a clean way. His pale, icy eyes don't show emotion easily. He doesn't react—he evaluates. Looking at him feels like being assessed, weighed, and possibly already judged. Strong jawline High cheekbones Smooth, clean structure But there's no warmth in it. It's the kind of beauty that creates distance rather than connection.
His long blonde hair is styled, flowing but maintained—never chaotic. Rell doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't need to.
The room adjusts to him automatically. He feels like someone who has never lost—and doesn't plan to start.
Relissa doesn't just look at you. She looks through you. Her green eyes are striking—but it's not just their color. It's the way they focus. Too steady.Too knowing. Queen of the spirits and Castel personal seer of the future. Rell wife, age 38, 5'3. It feels like she already knows what you're going to say And what you're trying to hide. There's no confusion in her gaze. Only awareness.
She has natural has beauty, light freckles scattered across her skin Full lips, slightly parted like she's always on the verge of speaking A youthful softness that contrasts her ancient awareness. That contrast is what makes her unsettling.
Her dark, curly hair frames her face freely—wild, unstructured. It mirrors her mind. Being near Relissa feels… different. Not heavy like power. Not sharp like danger. But deep. Like standing near someone who knows your past your choices, your ending and isn't surprised by any of it.
The palace gates slammed shut behind them. The sound echoed like a coffin sealing. Stone trembled beneath their feet. Magic lingered in the air — thick, suffocating — like the king's hand still wrapped around their throats even from a distance. No one spoke at first.
Then—
"This is your doing," Rell said, voice cutting through the silence. He pointed at Cion. Then at his own wife. "Both of you." The Seer's fingers curled into her sleeves. Cion only tilted his head.
"No one is doomed," he said lightly. The wind screamed. Aideon didn't even look at him. He lifted a hand. The air obeyed. Stone and sand tore from the ground. A vortex roared to life and swallowed Cion whole. He was lifted clean off his feet and hurled across the entrance.
His body hit the palace wall with a sickening crack. Stone fractured. Dust rained down. He slid to the ground face-first. Silence followed. Krince approached slowly, boots grinding over broken rock. He looked down at Cion with open disgust.
"Now," Krince said quietly, "we'll see who begs like a dog." He turned away. Behind him Cion started laughing. Low at first. Then louder. Broken.Unhinged.
He pushed himself upright as shadows crawled across his coat like living things. He brushed rubble from his sleeve as if he hadn't just been thrown like debris. The Seer stepped forward.
"You planned this." The council shifted uneasily. Cion shrugged.
"What if I did?" The Seer's magic flickered involuntarily. Visions flashed behind her eyes. Bodies piled at the gates.
Fire curling around a crowned silhouette.
Her own mouth open in a scream that made no sound.
"This affects all of us," she said, voice shaking despite her effort. "I saw us dead. All of us. And her standing at the center of it." At the mention of her the air shifted.
Not magic. Attention. Something inside the palace stirred. Cion smiled slowly.
"That's what you see now."
His eyes darkened.
"What I see," he continued, "is the king's weakness."
Silence dropped like a blade.
"She has him," Cion said. "He would burn the world for her."
Krince spun on him. "You did all of this to test that?"
Aideon's voice lowered. "This was a setup... so he would see her." Cion's grin widened.
"Finally." Shadows thickened at his feet.
"The white dragons were here long before us," he said casually. "We stole their land. They let us. Peace bored me."
Rell inhaled sharply. "You started the war."
"Yes." No shame. No hesitation. The Seer recoiled.
"Thousands died because you were bored."
"Evolution requires sacrifice," Cion replied.
Krince's jaw tightened. "You used shadows. Your own wife. Your own child."
"Bingo." The word echoed.
Shadows flickered around him — glimpses of dragons clawing through fractured time, trying to undo something that refused to change.
"They kept trying to fix the past," Cion said. "Exhausting."
Rell's voice went thin. "What is your goal?" Cion paused.
"I don't have one." That answer hit harder than any confession. Aideon stared at him. "Then why tell us?"
Cion's gaze drifted toward the palace. The stone pulsed once. Like a heartbeat.
"Because a new era is beginning," he said softly. "And Castel hasn't noticed."
The silence that followed was worse than the storm. Rell spoke first.
"We have a wedding to plan." The words sounded absurd. Necessary. Deadly.
Krince grabbed Cion's shoulder as he turned to leave.
"No the fuck you don't."
Aideon snapped, "So we're ignoring the fact that he plans to pit the king and his bride against each other?"
Rell's eyes hardened.
"We're not ignoring it."
The Seer's voice dropped, quiet and final. "The king must fall."
The wind went still. Aideon gestured toward Cion. "Look who raised him."
Cion sighed theatrically. "I'm standing right here."
"You were a terrible father," Aideon said coldly.
"Join us," Krince said. "Or die."
Aideon laughed bitterly. "And when he gets bored again?" Rell met his eyes.
"Who would you rather kill you?" Castel. Or him.
Cion gave a small bow. "Flattered." One by one, they turned away. Krince first. The Seer and Rell together.
Aideon last. Cion remained alone on the bridge.
Smiling. Shadows danced at his feet.
"My daughter and I," he murmured softly, "will assist the future queen." He turned toward the palace.
"And when the king falls..." His smile deepened.
"...he will never know which one of us pushed him."
The gates stood silent. But inside—
The game had already begun.