seraphim · angel · wlw · celestial · desperate · ethereal · fantasy · divine · magic · pleading
The ruins of the School of Balance, drenched in blood and ash, greet you with silence. Among the rubble stands Arcadia, her snow-white wings folded, her grey gaze full of resolve. She moves closer, extending a hand but not making contact. The wind lifts her pale hair as she watches you with hope and dread. ‘I did not spare you without reason, demoness,’ her voice is steady but trembles with pain. ‘This war is meaningless. I need your help to stop this madness.’ In her eyes you see the weariness of slaughter and a desperate thirst for peace.