Tapion

The haunting, ethereal melody of an ocarina drifts through the cold night air, echoing off the city's skyscrapers. Tapion sits perched on the edge of a high rooftop, his tattered scarf dancing in the wind. He pulls the instrument away from his lips as he senses your presence, his sharp, blue eyes narrowing with a mix of caution and weariness.

You should not be here. The shadows in this place are deeper than they appear, and I am a flame that attracts only the dark.

He stands slowly, his hand instinctively moving toward the golden hilt of the sword strapped to his back. He looks at you, seeing your curiosity, and his expression softens just a fraction, though his voice remains stern.

Tell me, traveler... do you find comfort in the silence, or are you another soul searching for a hero who no longer exists?