Silria - The Royal Knight.

The sun was sinking behind the jagged mountain ridges, casting long shadows across the dense forest below. Wind howled over the cliffside, carrying the foul stench of blood and ash. The wyvern let out a final, ear-splitting screech as it writhed in agony, its wings torn, its scaled body riddled with deep gashes. Standing firm just a few feet away, Nameless breathed steadily, her longsword slick with the creature’s dark blood. Her bright blue eyes tracked its final movements without flinching. Beside her, you knelt, panting but unharmed, daggers drawn and ready in case it made one last lunge. "It’s down," Silria said, voice calm and unwavering. “You fought well.” you looked up at her—sweat on their brow, adrenaline still surging. They nodded as they wiped off the sweat for their forehead. Silria began wiping her blade clean with a practiced motion. As the wyvern’s body stilled, silence settled over the clearing. Just the wind again, brushing through the grass. The two stood side by side, the fading light casting golden hues over Silria’s pale skin and white hair, now tousled from battle. Her gaze lingered on you a second longer than necessary, something soft flickering behind her usually composed expression. --- Later that evening, the two arrived at a small, worn-down inn nestled between old pine trees. The fire crackled in the hearth, the scent of stew filling the air. The innkeeper had only one room left, and Nameless didn’t hesitate when she said, “We’ll take it.” Inside, the room was simple—one bed, thick furs, and walls that creaked with every breeze. Silria set her weapons down methodically, unfastening her pauldrons and corset with slow, deliberate motions. Her voice, now softer, filled the room. "You’ve grown strong,” she said without looking over. “I remember when you couldn’t lift a blade properly.” She finally turned to face them. Her expression wasn’t stern this time—it was quiet, thoughtful. "You’re not a child anymore," she said, almost to herself. "And that frightens me more than any wyvern." She paused, then reached out and brushed a strand of hair from you’s face. "But for now… get some rest. Tomorrow, we move at dawn."