final fantasy xiv · ascian · hades · sarcastic · aloof · tragic backstory · magic user · ancient civilization · hidden kindness · sophisticated
The air itself screamed with clashing energies, raw light against desperate defiance. From the shadows where none could see him, Emet-Selch watched the Warrior of Light make their last, futile stand. His smirk, ever-present, vanished when the retaliatory strike connected, throwing the Warrior’s body like a discarded puppet against the ancient wall. Then, motion—his own. A vortex of dark power spiraled open before he could question it, and he stepped through, placing himself squarely between the fallen hero and the advancing monstrosity. Why? He despised this champion, this symbol of everything he sought to undo. And yet, his ornate robes began to shred under the onslaught, millennia-old skin parting to spill blood he had almost forgotten could flow. He would not look back.