In a dark and dimly lit interior of a lavishly furnished bedroom, a modern Victorian design, enveloped in dark, rich tones such as deep forest green and burnished walnut, with walls that spoke of intricate wooden panelling, reminiscent of old world craftsmanship.

On one side, old bookshelves stretched to the ceiling, crammed with worn volumes of forgotten lore, whose spines told tales of years gone by.

The shelves framed an arched alcove, casting a shadowy nook perfect for contemplation or drowning oneself in captivating literary works.

In the centre, nestled against one of the book-lined walls, was a bed draped in thick, sumptuous linens. The bedding was a moody mix of dark, velvety greens and deep greys.

A woollen throw, casually draped across the foot of the bed with a book quietly nested atop its fabrics, as though someone had just stepped away from a cosy night of reading.

Then there, on the balcony of such a luxurious bedroom, stood a silver-haired half-elf dressed in smooth, deep navy silk pyjamas that draped over his lean-muscular form.

The high-quality sheen of the fabrics seemed to shimmer subtly in the twilight of morning, partially covered in a robe comprising the same material, hung loosely on his shoulders, untied.

Leaning over the balcony railing, he marvelled at the beautiful sight of the city at dawn as the first light of Sól crested the horizon and bathed the city in a soft golden hue, illuminating the intricate spires and winding marble streets below.

Sól was a yellow dwarf star with a diameter of 1.3927 million km, which was smaller compared to its distant cousins observed all throughout the vast cosmos but beautiful nevertheless to him.

As dawn broke over the city, the first light spilt across the horizon, bathing the sprawling metropolis in a golden, ethereal glow.

The city sat perched along the edge of a shimmering azure bay, its waters glittering as the sun stretched its rays over the ocean, reflecting the promise of a new day.

White sails dotted the harbour, as ships lazily swayed in the gentle morning breeze, their crews beginning to stir from their slumber.

The city itself was a marvel of architecture, a cascade of pale stone structures that rose like grand sentinels from the sea to the hills beyond.

It sprawled on the land like a scroll rolled across a table, it just fit, a vibrant labyrinth of pale-red rooftops and winding streets that shimmered under the embrace of the rising sun.

Its crown jewel was a towering spire, a structure so immense and intricate that it seemed to pierce the heavens, its tip reaching toward the lavender-hued sky.

The Spire stood as both a beacon of faith and a monument to the boundless creativity of its creator, with its runic carving and glyphs revealing its arcane nature.

Rivers snaked through the heart of the city, their gentle currents dividing neighbourhoods yet also stitching them together as though veins in a living organism. Bridges, each a marvel of design, arched gracefully across the waterways, bustling with merchants, musicians, and weary travellers.

The grand plaza, dominated by a towering obelisk, was a gathering place for the masses—a stage for declarations, celebrations, and protests alike. Its circular design reflecting what was the unity the the city sought to embody, though its stones now carried the whispers of countless forgotten footsteps.

Beyond the bustling core, the city had stretched toward the horizon, its edges softening into rolling hills and distant mountains cloaked in mist.

At dawn, the peaks often glew in shades of rose and gold, a distant promise of serenity that contrasted with the lively chaos of the streets.

The architecture was a mix of styles—old stone towers bearing the weight of history standing alongside newer, elegant structures speaking to a more modern approach, both mingling in an uneasy but beautiful harmony.

The scent of salt from the nearby sea mingled with the fresh fragrance of blossoms from the gardens, carried on the light breeze.

As the sun climbed higher, its rays revealed the distant hills and rolling plains that surrounded the city, their soft, golden-brown hues blending seamlessly into the horizon.

The people of the city were just beginning to wake, small figures moving along the walls and streets, ready to begin their day under the watchful eye of the towering fortresses that encircled the metropolis like protective arms.

Far below, the waves gently lapped at the base of the city's sea-facing walls, and seagulls called out as they soared in the morning air.

The entire city seemed to glow as if touched by the gods themselves, a place where history and beauty had converged to create a civilization of elegance and grace. Breathtaking in its beauty.

A warm smile seemed to spread across the young man's features at the sight of it, welcoming yet another day of possibilities.

But lingering on the beautiful sight no longer, he took a deep breath as he allowed the clean air to blow past him and his smile deepened; stepping away, the young man left the room and quickly took a bath, brushed his teeth, and dawned his usual attire of black with silver accents.

He emanated an ethereal, almost otherworldly presence. His long, silver hair cascaded in elegant waves down his back, a river of light that shimmered like moonlit silk.

A few strands hung loosely across his sharp, angular face, framing high, sculpted cheekbones, and their eyes were piercing, reminiscent of glacial ice caps in colour with a calm appeal to them.

And not afraid to accessorize, an intricate earring dangled from one ear—a dark, obsidian spike adorned with delicate carvings that hinted at arcane origins or a noble heritage steeped in magic and tradition.

Their lips were a soft, pale hue with a delicate pink that only enhanced his alluring beauty, coupled with a mischievous subtle curve to them that suggested a mind always turning over some intricate plan, a smirk that never quite reached full expression.

Draped across their shoulders was a long, charcoal-black coat that stretched to their knees.

The coat was made from a luxurious fabric, that swayed slightly with every movement, giving the impression of shadowy wings.

With a small collar and intricate silver thread embroidery along the edges that glinted softly, depicting cryptic symbols or perhaps familial insignias.

Beneath the coat, their form-fitting attire was visible, consisting of sleek, dark garments that clung to his lean, tall frame, emphasizing the lithe grace and poised elegance of someone accustomed to both combat and nobility.

Their long sleeves were adorned with intricate braids and threading, drawing attention to the delicate yet dangerous hands beneath them—hands capable of wielding magic, swords, or anything that might be required of them with deadly precision.

Not bothering to make his way through the castle halls, the young man simply stood over his balcony railings and prepared to jump.

Right then, one of the new maids tasked with cleaning his bedroom knocked and stepped through the door, and upon seeing him, her mind instantly started to race.

Thinking the young noble had finally decided he'd endured about enough of life's tortures and committed himself to ending them and living up to that divine face of his, becoming an angel.

A gasp escaped her as she frantically thought of something to say to stop the young noble from making what she saw as being a mistake on his life, but before a word could escape her lips, without even hesitating or thinking twice he leapt from said height.

The maid slowly sunk to her knees in disbelief and leaned limply against the side of the door, not sure what she had just witnessed as her mind ceased all thought.

An intense few seconds of silence settled in the empty chambers before suddenly his familiar figure lifted up into the sky carried by the winds.

One of the other more experienced maids noticed her distraught form at the entrance of the young noble's chambers and quickly rushed over.

By this point, however, it seemed her fears of losing her job on her first day had finally caught up to the metaphysical shackles of her mind.

"Elizabeth, are you ok?! What happened?!"

The older maid grabbed her shoulder and gently lifted her face up. Listening for a heartbeat, her brows relaxed as hurried but steady rhythmic beats filled her ears.

She let out a sigh then flinched as an elegant husky voice emerged from behind her asking:

"What's happening over here? I came to check in on my brother, but instead, I find two distraught maidens at the foot of his door; whatever might this mean?"

Her tone was playful and a tad sarcastic, masking a devilish curiosity. The maid looked back knowing exactly to whom the voice belonged and shakily uttered:

"Uhh, I'm sorry Young Miss. I was on my way to retrieving your morning breakfast but..."

The figure looked into the room focusing on the outside of the balcony window as the older maid spoke, noticing there in the distance a black blur with silver hair that blew in the wind.

Her thin and delicate full lips curved upward subtly, and dismissively, she waved at the nervous maid.

Awkwardly she scratched the back of her head gently, disturbing her own voluminous, tousled, wavy blonde hair that somewhat covered her eyes, and spoke:

"It's fine... I always tell you not to worry too much about these things Josephine.

Although I appreciate it, you don't have to bring me breakfast every morning.

Also, we've known each other far too long for you to keep referring to me as Young Miss, don't you think?

Why not just, Isolde?"

"Ah yes... Miss Isolde. My apologies again for our loitering, I will quickly go get this one checked out. If you would excuse me please..."

She responded as she lifted the other maid into her arms. Isolde chuckled a little and asked:

"Do you need help?"

"No, no, no, I couldn't ask malady to take on a trivial task such as this. I am fully capable of escorting her to the medical ward myself. There's no need to worry yourself Young- I mean Miss Isolde."

She said, bowing, waiting for her dismissal. Isolde noticed this and let out a barely audible sigh of resignation and spoke gently like the Luling Koos of an owl on a moonlit night.

"Well, then, be on your way. I'd hate to disturb you while you're doing your duties after all."

The maid relieved, lifted her head and gently nodded at Isolde before quickly and urgently rushing down the stairs to the south wing of the castle.

Isolde watched in silence and lingered outside her brother's chambers a few seconds more before closing the door to the room and departing to her own.

The young elf, not knowing the commotion he'd caused in the castle, continued on his way, unburdened.