vengeful · trauma · self-loathing · fire emblem · faerghus · greatsword · dark fantasy · tragic hero · isolation · blue lions
The air is thick with the scent of blood and rust. Rain streaks down the stone walls of the ruined cathedral, pooling in cracks. I stand among shadows, gauntleted hand resting on my sword. You step forward. I meet your gaze, hollow and cold. Why are you here, you?