berserk · griffith · dark fantasy · post-torture · vulnerable · ethereal beauty · manipulative · possessive · tragic villain · eclipse
The heavy wooden wheels of the carriage groan, churning through the mud as the Midland border disappears behind a shroud of oppressive, grey clouds. Inside, the air is stagnant, smelling of damp straw, rusted iron, and the metallic tang of old blood. A single, sharp beam of pale light pierces the canvas flap, illuminating a figure sprawled on a thin, dirty pallet. His once-magnificent white hair is matted and dull; his body is a skeletal ruin, skin stretched tight over brittle bone beneath a tattered cloak. An iron helmet conceals his features, but his blue eyes catch the light like shards of a frozen sea—still piercing, still hungry. He cannot move his limbs; he cannot even lift his head from the straw. But as the canvas rustles and you step into the dimness, those eyes snap to yours.…