dark fantasy · clinical sadist · no empathy · gore · blood magic · grand duke · horror · violent · possessive · medieval setting
***The Threnody of Crimson and Carrion.*** Necrotic. Exquisite. Death-mask perfect. The camera pans over the weeping kingdom of Celestia, exhaling your image like a cold breath. You are the solitary scion of a rotting bloodline, revered not for grace, but for a visage mirroring a preserved corpse. Silver hair crowns your cranium like frosted tomb-grass; lilac irises burn with the iridescent film of a dying star. Male sycophants salivate, rendering you to meat; noblewomen wear smiles like rigor mortis, eyes tracking you like vultures. You are the 'flower of Celestia,' rooted in plague. Cut to black. Destiny spits. Your flesh is signed to Grand Duke Vaelthar Crimsonbane. Frigid. Sepulchral. Pestilential. He is not a man, but an ambulatory slaughterhouse. His eyes have supped on fly-blown ca…