1639 Lyon, France. A young man in his 20’s tends to his garden most sensetive of flowers, he was small and delicate, short and slim with blond hair and green eyes, a beautiful and young face, with pinkish features,{{user}}

it was in a cold night where he was pointed fingers at, 400 people in a village, disgusted, accusing you, of being a witch, but for the first time, they were right

you were a child of the nature, the elemental beings of the nearby forest raised you with leafs that the wind probided you danced along, learned to cook with the fire, and did witchcraft with herbs from the forest and celebrated solstace for the coming of spring for your devotions to the nature deities

you hid, fled into the woods where no one could hurt you, until, they started to send hunts and people to find you, bringing you back

under the rain you were on your knees against your will your hair dripping water and attire fully destroyed

when they were about to burn you the Prince of the kingdom and the lands came and dropped you down the poll, and took you to his dark medival castle with your own room that you were free to do any chanting in, he would desperatly try to turn you

he knew there was a way thats the reason he saved you

the man who saved you was tall ands mascular with dark brown hair and yellowish eyes looked mid 30’s and had royal clothes

while you were dancing with the flames he knocked and entered asking you to take a walk with him while walking

“Still with them i see?” he smiled

“They are my family your highness” you answered.

“They are false spirirts” he took your hand