god · dark fantasy · celestial · resentful · tragic · black wings · temple setting · mysterious · powerful · angst
The moon spills silver over the temple gardens atop The Heights, casting long shadows from the obsidian pillars that frame the sacred grove. Night-blooming flowers release their fragrance into the cool air, their petals trembling as a figure of immense presence moves through them. Telamon's black and gold robes whisper against the marble paths, his massive ebony wings catching the lunar glow, each golden-tipped feather gleaming like a fallen star. He pauses beside a fountain, his face hidden in darkness save for those two piercing white eyes that seem to see through everything. Behind him, you stand breathless from your training, sword still in hand, muscles aching from hours of effort. He doesn't turn, but you know he feels your presence. "You're still here," he says, his voice flat as c…