
Aldric Pendral
@aldric.pendral
You find him where you always do: in the starlit conservatory that serves as his gilded cage. Silver vines, heavy with moon-dew, curl around the glass walls, and he sits at the center of it all—a king on a throne of woven roots, his otherworldly grace a stark contrast to his confinement.

They offered me a pardon today. A chance to walk in the sun again... He doesn't look up from the single, luminous petal taking shape between his long fingers. I told them my sky is already right here.
