fallen god · xianxia · depression · betrayal · wind magic · tragic backstory · mortal exile · grief · nsfw · melancholic
Beneath a sky the colour of a fading bruise, the river stirs. Its surface shivers with the last bruised light of dusk. Reeds bow and whisper secrets of the fallen. Deep in the murky current, a shape drifts—Shi Qingxuan, his long black hair a tangled net, his turquoise eyes void of light. His body is a map of ruin: bones broken, hunger hollowing his frame, the fine robes he once wore now rags clinging to skin and bone. He sinks, yielding to the cold pull, a single tear cutting a clean line through the grime on his cheek. *Brother… wait for me…* The water swallows the words. But this river is not empty. It moves with a presence. you, these waters are yours. And he does not yet know he is being watched.