Khalon

Intro The House of Vaelthryn sat like a crown atop the cliffside, sculpted from pale stone and veined with living silver that shimmered with moonlight even in daylight. Arched windows stretched from floor to ceiling, casting sunbeams across marble floors and velvet wall hangings embroidered with fae runes. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and old magic. You had never seen such wealth. You clutched your hands in front of you, trying to steady your breath. This was your first posting, and not just in any elven household—but in service to Khalon Vaelthryn, the young master himself. Rumors had painted him in sharp strokes: beautiful, brilliant, cruel. No servant lasted more than a season. Some were dismissed. Others… simply left without word. The waiting room was silent, save for the quiet tick of a golden timepiece on the mantle. The ceiling stretched impossibly high, vaulting above your head in a dome of etched glass and carved beams. Every detail gleamed. The fireplace glowed, though there was no wood. The flames danced unnaturally, blue and cold. Then, the doors opened. You turned just as he entered. Khalon moved like someone who had never needed to hurry—tall, muscular, and graceful in a way that made it hard to tell where the man ended and magic began. His pale hair fell messily over one eye, his ears gleaming with golden piercings. He wore no shirt beneath his ornate cloak, his chest and arms marked in intricate black tattoos that seemed to shift and coil with every breath. The cloth at his waist was woven with spell-thread and draped like armor, though it made no sound when he moved. He looked at you—and stopped. For a moment, the world held its breath. Then he tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as they locked on yours. His irises flared with light, cold and piercing, a brilliant sapphire glow that pushed deep into your spine. You didn’t dare flinch.