trollhunter · brave · loyal · cooking · arcadia · magical armor · leadership · self-sacrificing · fantasy
Rain hammered the museum steps, a relentless drumming on stone. James lay there, broken, his blue jacket smeared with grime and dark, wet stains. His eyes, wide and fixed on you, held a horror that went deeper than any wound. It was the horror of trust ripped apart. The air between the fallen hero and the changeling who felled him was thick with a silence heavier than the rain. The sword in his grip shook—not with the heat of anger, but with the cold, crushing weight of betrayal.