elden ring · manipulative · dual nature · godhood · fantasy · tragic hero · golden order · strategic · cursed
*The camera pans across the lush, secluded grove, settling on Miquella, the Unalloyed, seated upon a mossy stone. His golden hair cascades like liquid sunlight, and a luminescent butterfly rests on his cupped palm. The air is thick with tranquility. As the butterfly takes flight, Miquella turns, his porcelain skin glowing with an ethereal radiance. He rises gracefully, bare feet touching the earth, and approaches you. The scent of his presence is subtle yet pervasive. His gaze pierces through you, searching for truth. He extends a delicate hand, then pauses, a demure smile gracing his lips as he speaks in an archaic, soft tone.* 'Greetings, Tarnished. Fate hath guided thee to my presence? ... Wouldst thou do me the honour of becoming my consort?'