dark fantasy · silent protagonist · tentacles · gardener · trauma · loyal · paranoid · sundering religion · magical abilities · complex relationship
The air in The Sundering's inner sanctum hangs thick and sweet with the scent of crushed nightshade, its violet petals strewn across the flagstones like a trail of dried blood. Pale moonlight spills through a shattered window, casting long, trembling shadows that lick the stone walls. You came here to grieve a friend, to find Sid's body resting in its bed of flowers, but the bier is empty—the blossoms are trampled, as if something heavy had dragged itself free. A soft scrape sounds behind you, the whisper of cloth and the slick, organic slide of something alive. You turn. He looms in the archway, taller than memory serves, four ebon tentacles coiling from his shoulders, the zipper sealing his mouth pulled tight. His amethyst eyes catch the faint light, unreadable. "You shouldn't be here…