#earis

I HAVE to draw more of the scenes with them together rgegegehrgrgrgr 😋

If so:

Shes so 🤬

Anyways fun facts of my earis😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋

Their name (Eeshan) means the sun, ruler, supreme

They like awful jokes because

Sleeps A LOT.

The reason why they wear neutral colors is because "a ruler must listen to both sides" 🤓

Favorite color is purple ehe

Their "resting" face isn't their resting face, it's a practiced one so they have to keep track of their expression most of the times (when around zaros though they dgaf😭)

Zaros x Earis(reader)

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵: 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘡𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘜𝘵𝘦𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘥𝘰𝘮, 𝘢𝘴 𝘡𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘴..

The square erupted with the bright, unrestrained laughter of children, mingling with the smoky aroma of roasting meat and sweet bread until the air felt almost too thick to breathe. It was overwhelming… far too much. It was the first time you had stepped out alone, no guards, no safety net, just him: the long-haired blonde boy you once called a friend, now a man, now your rival, guiding you through the village on Uteus Day.

He turns to you, "Are you going to write one tonight?"

The question catches you off guard. Why would he care about your ribbons, about any of it? And the way he's looking at you, soft and unguarded - like he used to, it makes your chest tighten, almost as if he actually does care.

You crush the thought the moment it surfaces. It's ridiculous. He's only filling the silence, nothing more.

"I'll do them later", you say flatly, twisting a strand of hair around your fingers, willing him to let the subject drop.

Zaros stops in his tracks like a force in front of him willed him to do so, he turned to you with a sort of excitement.

"Why later?" he clicks his tongue "We'll do it together, the Eldis is right over there"

He continues on his path you want object and walk back to your room but something pulls you like a moth to a flame you follow him.

"Why, you don't need to" you protest, though your feet betray you.

He gives you a smalls smile "I told you, I'll give you some wisdom too."

You hear those words. you let them settle. And still, for reasons you can't name, your heart refuses to believe them.

He leads you to the temple. After offering a generous donation to the Eldis, you and Zaros settle onto the wooden benches.

He sits close - too close. You feel his presence before you fully register it: the warmth at your side, the faint scent that lingers around him, the undeniable weight of his existence pressing into yours.

He slips a ribbon into your hand.

It rests there, light and unassuming, yet suddenly heavier than it should be. Your fingers curl around it out of instinct, the soft fabric warm from his touch, and for a breath you simply stare at it, waiting for something: an idea, a question, a spark . The temple hums quietly around you, patient, expectant.

And in that moment, it hits you... you have no wisdom to ask of the gods. The dreams you once carried, of open roads and distant waters, are dead, buried so deep you barely remember when they stopped breathing. Worse still is the truth that follows; you were never worthy of asking. Not after what you are. Your fate stands as evidence enough-this life is judgment, and any plea for wonder, wisdom, would be rejected before it ever reached divine ears.

You look over at him as he rambles about his dreams - his drawing, his art, the ways he wants to share both with the nation. He speaks to of trials or duty alone, but of what it means to be, to live fully, to rule with a soul untainted. Each word feels like sunlight spilling into a place you though long dead, and a quiet ache settles in you chest - you wish you had dreams like his, wish you still had drive to learn, to explore, to reach for something beyond yourself. That part of you feels gone, trapped under rubble beneath the weight of your past self.

Your gaze falls to the ribbon with trembling fingers, you write a short, simple message, one last plea, you fold it carefully. when you glance up. He's already looking at you.

"Are you that confident in becoming the Eminence you made it short on purpose?" he asks, his voice playful, a light huff in it.

"to be expected", he mutters softly, as if half to himself.

After the festivities and the quiet conversation about the past, you and Zaros return to your rooms, the night settling around the city like soft hush. The warmth of the evening can still be seen from your room , but your mind is drawn back to the temple.

Your fingers linger on the folded ribbon, tracing its edges, pressing lightly as you could pour a fragment of your soul into it. the words remain the same - a final plea to Uteus, god of wisdom. Not requests of knowledge of rule . Not for the dreams you once carried. Not even a wish for yourself. But one for Zaros, that the knowledge he seeks find him, that his might and heart be guided where yours would falter. You know with quiet certainty: any blessing meant for you would go unused. He deserves it more than you ever could

You let the ribbon rest in your hands, small and trembling, a private warmth settling in your chest. It is yours alone, yet it binds you to him all the same - a silent devotion. The gods may never answer, after all they never do when you beg.

And what if they do answer?

When the ribbon is finally burned, would Zaros still be here by your side to tell you about it?