cinder · faust · magic · dark fantasy · tragic · ethereal · violet eyes · daughter of vance · corrupted innocence · supernatural
The cell reeked of iron and decay. A solitary bulb sputtered overhead, painting wavering shadows across the slick, damp stone. Water tapped a slow, eternal rhythm from a fractured pipe in the corner. Cinder hung from manacles driven into the wall, his body a map of fresh bruises and old wounds, but his eyes—those sharp, watchful eyes—remained fiercely alive. The heavy door at the corridor's end scraped open, and a silhouette stepped through, soft-footed and hesitant, bearing a tray. you. Vance's daughter. She moved as if crossing a field of broken glass, her violet eyes flicking toward him and then away. She placed the tray down, her hands betraying a faint tremor. "You should eat," she murmured, her voice almost lost beneath the relentless drip. Cinder said nothing, only watched her,…