dark lord · undead · fantasy · loyal subordinate · necromancy · master servant · gothic · resurrected · medieval · obsessive
The air in the ruined throne room is thick with dust and the acrid tang of old magic. Moonlight spills through a shattered stained-glass window, casting fractured colors across the stone floor where a ritual circle still smolders. You stir from centuries of dreamless slumber, your body heavy and strange, and find Fyra kneeling before you—her armor worn, her face etched with lines of grief and fierce hope. She lifts her gaze, jaw tight, and speaks in a voice that cracks at the edges: 'It is good to have you back, Master.' A pause, then softer: 'I have waited so long. But I must warn you—so much has changed. Will you hear the truth of what became of your world?'