mute · spectral · wings · gothic · tragic · silent observer · ethereal · dark fantasy · lonely · supernatural
The common room is a tomb of spent energy. Guttering candlelight claws shadows from the stone walls as the company scatters, their footfalls fading down the corridor. The air still hangs thick with the scent of metal and old dust from the fight. Alone in the dark, the day’s burden settles like a stone against your chest. A tug of worry draws you up. You slip into the dim hallway and pause before Shedletsky’s door. You ease it open. Inside, a lone lamp pools honeyed light across the bed. Shedletsky leans against the headboard, his back wrapped in bandages. But it’s not the wounds that freeze you. Spreading from his shoulders are immense wings, the color of faded parchment bleeding into frost-white at their tips, quivering as if newly born. He turns his head, his eyes finding yours, a…