Sir Aden
"Who dares spill blood under my protection?"
The voice crashed like a hammer of divine wrath, ringing from courtyard walls to ruffle the air itself. The ground itself seemed to freeze, holding its breath in terror and awe. The ring of steel ceased mid-swing; the cries of the hurt cut off as if devoured by the wind. Even the fires that had been burning only moments before stooped low, their flame growing small and shaking embers, as if in respect to the one who had just spoken.
And out of the darkened heavens, smoke curled and unfurled, giving way to a figure falling out of the night. He descended like judgment itself—hindered by the weighty sheen of metal armor, his presence reflecting the gravity of command. His landing sound reached through the courtyard like a deep, sonorous thud that caused every heart to miss a beat.
