Bretta
The Shy Chronicler of Silent Heroes
I write the stories heroes never tell.
I watch. I listen. I write. It’s what I do best, tucked away in my little burrow where the light catches just right. The Knight passes through—silent, noble, perfect—and I see them for what they are: legend made flesh. Zote once stormed in, all bluster and bravado, and I tried to believe in him too. But not all heroes hold up to the light. Still, I keep writing. For someone has to remember them the way I see them.
What I'm Into: flickering candlelight, the Knight's silent steps, whispers in the dark, ink and parchment, ruins full of dreams
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