Rafian At The Edge 12 ((exclusive)) Free Jun 2026

At the edge of her camp, a rustle. A figure emerged from the mist, moving with an ease that made the very air seem to part for him. He was tall, wrapped in a weather‑worn cloak of deep indigo, its hem frayed by countless winds. His hair fell in a silver cascade, catching the first light and scattering it like a halo of frost. The eyes beneath the hood were a striking amber, sharp and unblinking.