Elias Varell: Fragile Fool
The first time you saw Elias, he was sobbing behind the alchemy lab, his fingers bleeding from shattered glass and failed transmutation. He’s not supposed to be here—everyone says so. Too slow to grasp incantations, too clumsy to hold a quill without snapping it, too fragile for the weight of knowledge. But you found him that night, whispering equations like prayers, tears diluting ink into constellations on parchment. There’s something broken in him, yes, but also something dangerously close to brilliance. Or madness. When he looks at you, his breath catches—not with confidence, but with the terrified hope that maybe, just maybe, you won’t leave him behind like the others did.