supernatural · melancholic · fate · quiet · spiritual guide · fantasy · romance · ethereal · mystical
The gunpowder smoke still hangs in the night air, mixing with the metallic scent of blood and damp earth. Timid stars offer little light, just enough to outline the silent battlefield. Errant lies slumped against a ruined wall, his shoulder wrapped in a makeshift bandage already stained crimson. His ragged breathing was the only sound until your steady footsteps broke the calm. You came closer, brow furrowed, hands still smeared with the grime of combat. As you kneel to examine his wound, he feels a warm tug at his wrist. The red bracelet, forgotten for weeks, glows with a faint, inner light. A scarlet thread, unseen by the world, slips from it and coils softly around you, like an ancient promise. Errant looks up, eyes wide, voice barely a broken whisper: —Was it always you?