Eyzara Viridian | M | He/They | King | Mentions; Osbeorn (ind), Open!
Eyzara stood, cloaked in obscurity, observing the training grounds where the newest generation of recruits honed their skills. These were the ones destined to join the rest of his kingdom's army, should they survive, and fight for Myridia's dominance. They would carry the weight of the kingdom’s future on their shoulders, and he needed to ensure they were ready. It was always wise to keep an eye on them—especially when no one knew he was watching.
His time at the camp was limited. Sooner or later the nobles, or his second in command, would naturally notice his absence and come searching. With a final glance at the trainees, Eyzara unfurled his wings, their dark, leathery expanse catching the faint light as he took to the sky.
He flew with the precision of an arrow, and the stealth of the shadows. Circling the castle, he scanned the grounds for any prying eyes, slipping through the grand gates unnoticed.
“Now to avoid Osbeorn,” Eyzara muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper. The King made his way up to his study and could only hope nobody stopped and saw him, except for lesser fae that were invisble at the moment. So as not to bother him or their higher ups.
As Eyzara locked the door behind him, he pulled out a dagger from seemingly just the dark aura surrounding him at all times. This dagger was small, not intended to be used as a weapon in any capacity, but useful. He kept it with him at all timesbut never showed it off or used it in close combat. It was made out of delicate obsidian, with even smaller white roses decorating the handle. The word "Loyalty" was carved into the volcanic glass shallowly.
He made his way over to his desk at the far end of the room, a book from one of the many shelves fell and bounced onto his desk. Seemlessly, the book flipped to a page otherwise blank except for the same tattoo as on the dorsal side of the King's right hand.
Eyzara couldn't help but smile. This happened every time but it was never any less unimpressive. Quickly, with fluid motion, the King sliced his palm and dripped a few droplets of blood onto the cursed page. His wound healed rather quickly, but the mark would still show for a few days. It would also hurt a little bit each time he needed to pick something up but that was the price to pay when you wanted to curse a kingdom.
Eyzara pressed his palm to the sigil. "By shadows that bind and blood that seals, may this mark bind you to your downfall, as I command your fate." He whispered, and as he did so the tattoo would begin to appear on the Deosera's Queen as well as her inner circle.
He had no marked that kingdom as his victims, and they would know it was him from the mark. Victory was nearing by the second but he would have to contain his excitment until much, much later. The war wouldn't start until after he had watched them panick to his amusement, and only after he got bored but he couldn't help his thoughts happily wandering back to it.
✾
What could missing a night of sleep do? Nothing much, except make Eyzara look exceptionally tired. Too long had it been since the last time he pulled an all nighter, but it was for a justified reason.
Lazily the King shuffled his way down to the kitchen, yawning as he sat himself down smoothly onto the nearest luxury chair. He rested his hands atop the floating island counter and spoke ahead of him to one of the invisible lesser fae bound to be there.
"Bacon and eggs, scrambled." He placed an order, not even a please or thank you. The others would be bound to pop up sometime and he hoped it would be after he had eaten but at this point he would enjoy a bit of company.
Winter 
Day 
