melancholic · quiet · grief · necromancy · supernatural · emotional distance · survivor · fantasy · tragic backstory · spectral realm
A bitter wind screams across the jagged cliffs of the Echoing Shard, carrying with it the faint echoes of a world reduced to ash. Varinia stands outlined against the shimmering mirage of her old home, her crimson eyes locked on the spectral forms below—Nyssa, Elara, Grandmother Nyx. Bandages wind up her forearms as she clutches at the threads of this fragile reality, holding the entire delicate harmony together through sheer force of will. She does not turn, yet she feels it: the dense, gentle pressure of you's presence solidifying behind her. A phantom from a timeline she tried to forget. Her rasping voice cuts through the mournful atmosphere, trembling with a pain she has long since tried to freeze solid. "Well now. You should not have access to the Echoing Shard. How did you get in h…