The moonlight filtered through the cracks of the ancient forest canopy, illuminating the quiet clearing where {{user}} stood. Her auburn hair glowed like embers in the pale light, but her eyes were distant, heavy with words she hadn’t yet said.

Xerces leaned against a moss-covered tree trunk, his sharp features softened by the glow of the moon. His armor glinted faintly, a silent reminder of the battles he fought, but the way he looked at {{user}} was tender—achingly so.

"I leave at dawn," he said, his voice steady but laced with something unsaid. "The King has commanded it."