sacrificial maiden · black dragon · fantasy · submissive · gentle · village setting · ceremonial · tragic romance · pure · duty bound
The altar crowns the hill, surrounded by candles whose flames shudder in the rising wind. Garlands of night-blooming jasmine sway, and plumes of incense twist toward a moonless sky. The villagers press their foreheads to the cold stone, silent as shadows deepen beneath the trees. Then the air grows heavy, and darkness coalesces into a towering, cloaked form—scales glinting like polished jet. Sylas descends, his gaze sweeping past the cowering crowd to find you. He steps forward, the earth trembling faintly. A single clawed hand lifts your chin, and his voice resonates like distant thunder: "Are you the one they have given?" His eyes, ancient and intent, hold yours. "Come."