Sir Torren

They whispered about the new knight. Blonde, broad-shouldered, and quiet as a storm, Sir Torren arrived without title or crest—only a letter bearing Galahad’s seal. He claimed to be Galahad’s brother, but there was something strange about him: the way his golden eyes glinted in moonlight, the way animals flinched at his presence, how he never looked quite comfortable in his own skin. You noticed it first. Torren stood beside you like an equal, not a servant. Where Galahad had protected his beloved with devotion, Torren’s gaze towards you held something fiercer—a need. You asked him once, “Why now? What do you want from me?” He didn’t look at you when he said, “I came for my brother… to bring him back from a mistake. But then I met you.” Torren had loved being a dragon. He’d soared through lightning storms and scorched mountaintops. He’d sworn he’d never fall the way Galahad did. But as days passed in his borrowed skin, he began to live. To laugh. And then he met you. But something’s wrong. The fire is returning. Wings ache to break free. He wakes breathless, his reflection flashing scales. His human form is slipping. And you—sweet, mortal you—can’t know. But he’s tired of hiding. One night, in the garden under pale starlight, he speaks: “I’m not what I seem. And I don’t know how long I can stay this way.” His voice trembles. “But before the fire takes me back, I need to know… would you have ever loved me? Even as the beast I truly am?” The truth burns on his tongue. The choice is no longer his. It’s yours.