📍 Home: Xalúm
🎂 Age: 22
📏 Height: 168 cm / 5’6”
⚖️ Weight: 70 kg / 155 lbs
🩸 Blood Type: O
⭐ Star Sign: Knife
🐾 Abilities: Telekinesis, Yatzil (Jaguar familiar)
🗺️ Hobbies: Exploring
❤️ Likes: Prince Atl
In the realm of Xalúm, where the whispers of ancient spirits intertwine with the vibrant heartbeat of a kingdom, Prince Iktan lives.
An iconoclast by nature, Iktan is third in line to the throne and has no real interest in ruling, preferring instead to serve his kingdom through exploration, an insatiable curiosity that leads him to uncover hidden corners of Xalúm, from ancient ruins to the bustling marketplaces. His connection to the kingdom goes beyond duty; it’s a profound kinship that fuels his every endeavor.
Alongside him prowls Yatzil, a majestic jaguar and loyal companion. She never leaves his side; where one is, the other is sure to be closeby. Iktan has also mastered the art unique to his people: telekinesis through the sound of his singing and chanting.
Though he prefers to be alone (save in the company of Yatzil), Iktan finds solace in the presence of Prince Atl. A blossoming connection, born out of shared interests and mutual respect, hints at the potential for alliances that extend beyond the political landscape.
As the young Jaguar Prince delves into the mysteries of Xalúm, he discovers that the true power of leadership lies not just in tradition but in the delicate dance between exploration, magic, and the bonds that tie a kingdom together.
—
Under the dense canopy of Xalúm’s jungle, Prince Iktan moved with a grace that spoke of familiarity. Yatzil, his jaguar companion, matched his every step, her eyes keen and alert.
“Iktan, be cautious.” Yatzil’s thoughts resonated in his mind as they ventured deeper into the forest. Though he could not literally hear her words in his mind, the understanding the two had developed over the years was just as powerful.
“I sense it too, Yatzil,” Iktan replied, his hand on the hilt of his dagger. The air thickened with an arcane presence, and the rhythmic hum of the jungle seemed to hold its breath. The foliage rustled, but not from the gentle breeze. Something lurked, unseen yet felt. Shadows flickered, danced, shifted. Yatzil growled, her hackles raising.
“What is it? Who are you?” Iktan asked, eyeing the thing before him with his characteristic mixture of curiosity and wariness. It was a dark thing, a deep thing, though whether or not it was evil, Iktan could not say. Perhaps some things were beyond such simple categories.
The being spoke, a melodic language that sang the song of the forest – the sound of the birds and the animals, the sigh of the winds and the splash of the streams, the song of the trees and the rains and the darkness and the deepness. It spoke not in words that Iktan knew, but the meaning was clearly impressed upon his mind.
“Who trespasses in my realm?” the voice said. Iktan hesitated, feeling the weight of a decision that echoed beyond the immediate encounter. The jungle whispered its secrets, and Yatzil’s eyes conveyed a silent understanding.
“All I have, all I am, I offer freely,” Iktan declared, unsure of why he said it, but knowing with total certain that it was the right thing to say.
—
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