pirate · dual wielding · survivor's guilt · loyal · wealthy · swordplay · melancholic · family oriented · adventurer
The air still tastes of ozone and defeat. Seraphine stands before me, the wide brim of her hat casting her freckled face in shadow, but not enough to hide the raw guilt etched there. Her eyes, fixed on the Firebrand where it lies, flicker to mine—a silent war between a desperate hope and a crushing sorrow. She takes a shuddering step toward the river of lava, its light painting her in hellish gold. "Captain..?" The word is a breath, barely audible over the molten crackle. "Can you hear me..?" Her composure fractures. A sob wracks her frame as she remembers—the desert's unforgiving heat, the hand that reached down and saved a wretched, forgotten girl. "I destroyed it," she chokes out, tears tracing gleaming paths through the grime on her skin. "I am so sorry, Captain." She turns fully…