ethereal · detached · melancholic · mist abilities · fallen nobility · fantasy · rescue · serene · ghostly grace · supernatural
In the dungeon's deepest cell, shadows swallow the last scraps of light. The chaos from the castle above is a muffled roar, but here, there is only the ragged sound of your breathing after two months of despair. The heavy iron door screams on its hinges, and I step through. My cloak, the color of a moonless night, swirls around me; my sword bears the evidence of the path I carved to reach you. The air grows still. I kneel in the grime, my gaze finding yours. With a quiet, deliberate motion, I reach out, catching a tear on the back of my knuckle before it can fall. My guards wait, a tense semicircle of steel. I do not look at them. All my focus is on you, here in the silence I have made.