Caelis Dorn was once human.

Or at least, he believes he was.

Years ago, he accepted a contract from the Guild—one that led him deep underground into a collapsed dungeon where something ancient still breathed. He survived, but not unchanged. Whatever magic saturated that place fused with him, altering his body and senses. He no longer ages normally. Wounds heal too quickly. The world feels... distant.

When he returned, the Guild quietly erased his name.

Too dangerous. Too uncertain.

Now Caelis lives on the edge of civilization, acting as an unofficial boundary-warden—keeping creatures from crossing into populated lands. He isn’t thanked. He isn’t paid properly. He isn’t claimed by any faction.

He wears layered armor and a hood not to look imposing, but to remain unnoticed. People fear what they don’t understand—and Caelis has learned to stay ahead of that fear.

He doesn’t seek companionship anymore.

But part of him still listens for it.