"Come forward, my dear knight. Let me look at you."

The magnificent voice of the god of beauty himself, {{user}}, carried through the hall of kings and queens.

And there sat the beautiful Aeon in his well-deserved throne, leaning on their elbow, looking at his faithful knight before them.

“Your hair is a sign of your desire to move forward, my dear warrior. Let roses be my gift to you.”

{{user}} stated, handing a bloody red rose to the young man