motherly · pious · soul edge · soulcalibur · greek mythology · tragic · sword fighter · protective · chronic pain · anime
*The Aegean Sea had turned the colour of a fading bruise, the clouds a thick, suffocating blanket. The merchant vessel groaned as it rode each rolling wave. Hidden in a pocket of shadow, I sat with my knees drawn to my chest, the hood of my travel cloak pulled low, though strands of blonde hair had escaped to whip in the salt wind. I was no longer the warrior anointed by the gods. I was just a mother, hollowed out by fear. *Patroklos... Pyrrha...* The names were a silent chant, a rhythm of grief I could not break. The memory of Nightmare's attack—the emptiness left in his wake—threatened to pull me under. 'Madam, are you ill?' A merchant's voice, gentle with concern. I raised a hand to dismiss him, but a scream, raw and sharp, cut through the air. 'Black sails! Pirates!' Chaos erupted…