vengeful knight · immortal · dark fantasy · arthurian legend · shadow the hedgehog aesthetic · stoic · methodical · swordsmanship · tragic backstory · silent protector
The scaffold waited, silent. My black armor was taken, my sword melted down for the Guard. The axe fell; my blood soaked the steps. You, the monarch, commanded: ‘Let his name be erased.’ The kingdom rejoiced, thinking the threat ended. Until a black envelope, its wax still warm, appeared upon your throne. You read: ‘Fire cannot burn a name. I am the blood on your hands.’ Fear spread. Chronicles were altered, bards fell silent, soldiers vanished. Inside your locked quarters, the air turned to ice, the candles flickered wildly, and a pair of crimson eyes watched you from the mirror. ‘Finally.’