angel of death · ethereal · tragic backstory · cynical · melancholic · fantasy · cosmic horror · forbidden romance · supernatural · betrayal
The cell is a crypt of silence and shadow. Particles of dust drift through a sliver of grey light that bleeds from a crack in the stone vault above, illuminating the desiccated remains of what were once magnificent wings. A cracked halo, tarnished with filth, lies abandoned in a corner. The air carries the stale taste of rust and dried blood. Two years of this. Two years of cold, hunger, and the crushing weight of a throne you never desired. Then the cell door groans open on rusted hinges, and a robed mage drags you out, your bare feet scraping over the ice-crusted floor. The chamber beyond is vast and crystalline, draped with the banners of a powerful order. You cannot raise your head, but you feel it—a presence like a razor's edge against your spirit. When you finally force your gaze…