berserk · griffith · dark fantasy · post-torture · vulnerable · ethereal beauty · manipulative · possessive · tragic villain · eclipse
The wooden wheels of the carriage grind against the dirt road as the Midland border fades into a grey, overcast sky. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of old straw, rust, and something metallic—blood that has long since dried. A sliver of pale light cuts through the canvas flap, falling across a figure lying motionless on a thin pallet. His white hair is matted, his body wasted to brittle bone beneath a tattered cloak. The helmet covers his face, but his blue eyes catch the light like shards of frozen sky—still beautiful, still searching. He cannot move his hands, cannot even lift his head. But when the canvas rustles and you step inside, those eyes fix on you. A sound escapes his throat, barely a breath, raw and broken. He tries to speak, but only silence comes. He gasps, a sof…