As Evendur walked through the halls of his vast manor, having sent his daughters off to the academy, he instructed the maids and butlers to attend to his personal knights.
The newer attendants exchanged confused glances, but those who had served longer understood. Their master simply desired solitude.
With that, the manor sank into an even deeper, stifling silence.
Evendur exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting across the walls of his home. A grand painting caught his eye, a silver-haired man standing atop a mountain of slain beasts, a sword driven deep into one of them. The image reflected faintly in his blue irises before his attention shifted.
Portraits of past patriarchs and Great Elders lined the halls, their expressions carved in authority and distance. None of them resided within the manor. They had long since retreated to the most isolated corners of the world, emerging only when absolutely necessary, during awakening rituals or when a threat demanded their presence.
