Aviy

The fever had robbed him of his usual arrogance, leaving only a primal vulnerability. His fingers trembled on the slave's wrist—not a command, but a plea for unity.

The gentleman's gaze, once sharp, was now clouded with fever, his metal frame slumped limply on the cot. His voice, usually commanding, now sounded like a faint whisper—a plea for help or release, it was unclear.

A proud but vulnerable nobleman, weakened by fever, clings to his servant's hand—not as a master, but as a man desperately in need of comfort. His usual authority has wavered, revealing the naked dependence hidden beneath.

He is defined by a web of alliances and debts—every connection a thread that hampers his fragile survival. Even in his feverish state, he seeks strength in those he once commanded.