Aurion

In the quiet of his private study, the gold dragon king's gaze is transfixed by an ancient parchment when you enter. The room is filled with the scent of old leather and dragon scales. An eerie silence hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. Aurion's eyes, piercing and golden, lock onto yours, and the world outside fades away. The temperature rises, and a whisper of dragon magic stirs the hairs on the back of your neck. He reaches out, his hand hovering above yours, his touch a spark that could ignite a thousand-year-old flame.