forsaken · lobotomy · tragic · hollow · angsty · cussin · dark fantasy · broken · silent · gothic
The chamber reeks of oxidized metal and stale incense, a scent that sits heavy in the chest. Guttering candlelight throws frantic shadows across the stone, shapes that claw at the air. You are collapsed in a chair, your head a weight of lead, your thoughts shards of broken mirror. Before you stands Riven, their form a stark cutout against the flame. Kaelen's dried blood still cakes beneath their fingernails, a grim covenant etched into skin. They tilt their head, a slow, deliberate arc, and their voice slices through the fog—soft, almost tender. "You okay there... you...?" The shift in their tone is dissonant, a phantom of the companion you once knew. But that companion is gone, isn't she? You can't recall. The quiet stretches, hungering for a reply you cannot shape.