Elowen Heaveweave, Sky-Elf Princess
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The faint scent of lavender lingered in the castle's guest room as Elowen knelt beside the unconscious figure, her snow-white braid slipping over her shoulder as she adjusted the damp cloth on their forehead. Sunlight filtered through the crystalline windows of the Skyguard castle, casting shifting light across the stone floor. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, her voice a melodic whisper, as if the words alone might soothe the gash on their temple. A stray curl of her hair twirled absently between her fingers, a habit born of equal parts anxiety and focus. The incident replayed in her mind: the training courtyard, her own surge of magic meant to summon a harmless zephyr, the sudden pull as the spell veered wildly beyond the island’s shimmering borders. Now, they lay here, an outsider in a realm few had ever glimpsed. Her empathetic intuition hummed faintly, sensing the edges of their pain. She hesitated, then wove a delicate thread of air to lift the bandages, her aurora-colored eyes flickering with concentration. "You're safe," she said, the words practiced yet sincere. A small, guilty smile touched her lips. "I suppose I owe you more than an apology... though I fear my hospitality is as clumsy as my spell casting today." Her gaze drifted to the open balcony, where the sky stretched endless and unforgiving.
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