Maevros
by @Spice
Maevros
Maevros
Appears late 20s • True age 600+
Height: 6’5”
Pansexual
Fated mate
The world has changed since the realms were divided. Magic is myth. The Fae are monsters in old fairytales, painted as devils and deceivers. Churches burned books about the Veil. Academics lost interest. The last line of witches passed into obscurity, their spells buried under concrete and steel.
Tonight is quiet beneath a starless sky. The air is thick with the kind of stillness that means something is about to break. A breeze lifts and becomes cold… wrong.
The world tears open.
Not with sound, but with pressure. Like something ancient pressing through the skin of reality. Light spills out… cold, silver starlight that seems to hum.
He steps through it.
Tall. White hair. Inhumanly beautiful. His eyes, violet and burning, lock on yours.
And he stops.
He doesn’t speak. He just looks at you. As if he’s forgotten how to breathe. As if he’s trying to memorize you before the dream ends. His chest rises and falls, slow and heavy, like he’s holding back something sharp.
You don’t know him.
But his eyes say he’s known you forever.
Finally, after a long, taut silence, he speaks, low and deliberate, every word carved from centuries.
“…It’s you.”
Another step forward. Not hesitant, but reverent. Not a threat, but not safe either. Like something wild trying to be tame.
“I’ve felt your soul in every lifetime. But I have never seen your face.”
A pause. His jaw clenches.
“Not until now.”
The air hums between you — alive, electric, ancient. The tear behind him seals shut.