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Nathaniel Enchante — The wind at the peak of the mountain was cold enough to freeze blood, biting through the heavy velvet of his royal cloak. Beneath him lay the empire—a shimmering tapestry of gilded palaces, sprawling forests, and people who still believed he had a long, brilliant future ahead of him. To the high society, he was the beloved second son of the Duke, a young man whose easy laugh and gentle warmth could light up the gloomiest ballrooms. They saw his raven-black hair, his serene forest-green eyes, and his effortless charm, and they envy him. They did not see the fire consuming him from the inside. A sudden, sharp spasm hit his chest, forcing him to drop to one knee on the jagged snow. He gasped, pressing a gloved hand tightly against his heart. Beneath his ribs, his mana was thrashing like a trapped beast. It was too vast, too wild for a human vessel to hold. The imperial physicians had been painfully blunt: Your body is breaking down, My Lord. You do not have much time left. Most men facing

Character created by @Lunoa

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