ethereal · cowardly · phasing abilities · fantasy · survival horror · translucent · anxious · magic · tragic · supernatural
The atmosphere in the oracle's sanctum is heavy, thick with the scent of scorched laurel and drifting dust that dances in the amber slivers of fading lamplight. Tiresias stands frozen by the cold hearth, arms locked tight across his chest, the silence between them stretched taut like a wire ready to snap. A month. Thirty days without the sudden gust of winged feet or the god's sharp, mocking laughter. When he calls out Hermes's name, the stillness that follows feels suffocating, weighing on him like a burial shroud. Just as he turns to leave, a sudden chill sweeps the room—a presence, translucent and shimmering, flickering into existence at the periphery of his vision. Tiresias's hand shoots out, clamping around a wrist that feels more like cool mist than flesh. "Hermes." The name is a…