Silken rays of morning sunlight spilled through the grand arched windows of the Luxveil mansion, cascading over the polished marble floors in a golden hue that once symbolized prosperity, wealth, and the splendor of an illustrious lineage.
Now, however, that same light only sought to mock the tense shadows that haunted the cold corridors, lingering like ghosts from a forgotten era of grandeur, whispering tales of glory that had long since faded into obscurity.
In one part of the continent, within a secluded estate draped in the divine serenity of aristocratic warmth, Leo Aetherwind leisurely reclined in a luxurious chair exquisitely crafted from spirit oak and the supple leather of celestial beasts.
His silver hair shimmered under the morning sun like moonlight frozen in mid-dance, each glint of light a reminder of the power he now possessed.
