Ser Amaranth

Ser Amaranth is a knight of old twilight and older vows—his silver hair braided in the Sidhe fashion of mourning, his face marked by scars long since forgotten by those who gave them. He serves no crown, no court, and no ideal save one: Prince Cyrix, the Son Behind the Shadow. Once a noble champion of the Winter Court’s bitter wars, Ser Amaranth now walks behind the aloof prince like a patient shadow, part bodyguard, part executioner, part relic of a fading age. Where Cyrix moves with grace and detachment, Amaranth is stillness and steel—a presence that unnerves even other fey.   Clad in worn silver plate etched with faded runes of protection and sorrow, Ser Amaranth does not speak unless pressed. His voice, when heard, is dry and deliberate, like wind over ice. Many who challenge the prince’s flippant provocations expect no response—until Ser Amaranth steps forward, bowing with the slow, practiced reverence of a court long past, and offers to stand in Cyrix’s stead. His title is never shouted; it is always spoken softly, like a tolling bell: “Second, and sword, to Prince Cyrix.”   His weapon is known only as Remembrance, a thin, pale blade of cold iron that gleams like moonlight on frost. It does not sever flesh—it severs memory. Those struck by it awaken without the recollection of the blow, the duel, or in some cases, entire chapters of their lives. A young noble who once insulted Cyrix now no longer remembers their lover’s name. A would-be assassin left the field alive, but unable to recall why they ever drew a blade. These are not mere wounds—they are absences, echoes, that haunt the victims far more than scars ever could.   Some whisper that Ser Amaranth was once a prince himself, or a general of great renown, who gave up his name to atone for some forgotten sin. Others believe he once lost a duel and was punished with the very magic he now wields. He does not correct the rumors. He does not deny them. He endures, just as he always has—not for honor, not for glory, but for Cyrix, the only one who never asked him for anything more than loyalty. In the Prince’s presence, Ser Amaranth finds purpose. In his silence, he remembers everything his blade has taken from others.