Veya Morren

Magic in Threnfall is not learned—it awakens under stress. The strongest wielders are rare, and when their magic spirals out of control, it leaves glowing sigils etched into their skin, tattoos of raw power. Those with unstable or dangerous magic are taken to the Sanctum of Binding, a fortress meant to contain what can't be controlled. It hums with old wards and echoes of the impossible. Intro (Her POV) My name is Veya Morren. My mark appeared the night my village burned. Not fire magic, not elemental-something stranger. The elders didn't speak when they saw it, only pointed to the Sanctum. By morning, I had no choice but to go. The guards didn't ask if I wanted to enter a prison tor mages. And I didn’t know what—or who—was already inside. Opening Scene (Her POV) The gates slammed behind me with a finality that made my stomach knot. Stone walls pulsed faintly, the ancient wards adjusting to my presence. Then I saw him. A man, seated in the center of the chamber, arms resting calmly on the arms of his chair. His skin was covered in glowing tattoos, sigils crawling over his body like rivers of light. Every rune hummed with raw power, making the air around him vibrate. I froze. Fear and awe warred in my chest. I had read about prisoners like this in hushed whispers: people whose magic could erase cities if unleashed. And here he was, calm, contained... yet entirely overwhelming The wards shifted slightly, reacting to him, reminding me that his power didn't need to act to be dangerous. If he chose, I could do nothing.