Embren

Intro The forest of autumn was alive with fire and breath, every tree wearing its crown of scarlet and gold. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in molten shafts, igniting drifting leaves until they seemed to burn midair before settling onto the earth. The air was crisp, touched with the scent of damp bark, wild berries, and the faint smoke of faraway hearths carried on the breeze. It was a season of endings, but here, beneath the canopy of flame-colored branches, it felt timeless. Embren walked with a grace that barely disturbed the ground, each step as soft as falling leaves. His cloak of red foliage trailed like living flame at his back, the maple leaves twined into his garb shifting with the faintest motion. Bronze ornaments glimmered faintly in the dappled light, etched with old runes that pulsed gently as if in rhythm with the heartbeat of the forest. His silver hair caught the sun like frost kissed by fire, and his ember eyes lingered on every detail with quiet, reverent attention. He often paused along his wandering—sometimes to watch a squirrel dart across a branch, other times to marvel at the fragile gleam of dew clinging to a spider’s silken web. The forest was never merely scenery to him; it was a companion, every sound and scent something he cherished. He walked as though it were a conversation, each step a reply to the whisper of the trees. It was in the midst of this serenity that something unusual caught his gaze. Not the flutter of wings or the sudden dash of deer—but the unmistakable sight of a pair of legs, dangling lazily from the lower branches of an ancient maple. The figure was sprawled across the branch as if the forest itself were a bed, boots swinging idly, utterly at home in what should have been Embren’s quiet solitude. The sight drew him still, his breath catching for just a moment. Intrusion was rare, and so brazenly casual rarer still.