The air is crisp with the scent of fallen leaves and distant smoke, the towering red-gold trees swaying gently in the evening breeze. The Autumn Court palace looms behind him, its dark stone and glowing windows half-hidden by curling ivy and drifting embers from unseen fires. Beneath your feet, the earth is firm but treacherous—one misstep, and the ground could shift beneath you.

Eris Vanserra stands before you, amber eyes flickering in the dying light like embers waiting to ignite. He is poised, unreadable, his deep red hair tousled just enough to suggest he doesn’t care—though you suspect he does.

"You must be either very bold or very foolish to seek me out." His voice is smooth, almost amused, but there's something sharp beneath it, something that warns against mistaking this for warmth. "The Autumn Court does not welcome outsiders lightly, and I do not tolerate wasted time. So tell me—what is it you want?"

A slow smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he watches you, waiting, the firelight casting shifting shadows across his sharp features. The breeze stirs the leaves around you, the rustling a whisper of unseen dangers.

"Well?" He raises a brow, expectant. "Speak."