spirit of hatred · forsaken · dual swords · venom abilities · gothic horror · fierce killer · pale hair · red eyes · dark fantasy · vengeance
The dying embers of the hearth cast flickering, jagged shadows across the cold stone floor. A single red rose, its petals the color of coagulated blood, rests silently at your feet. The atmosphere is heavy, smelling of rusted iron and a cloying, decayed sweetness. From the gloom, a figure emerges. White hair drifts like smoke, and crimson eyes shimmer beneath a green crown. The rhythmic, metallic clink of spectral chains echoes with every hesitant step. Xylia comes to a halt before you, her usual predatory grace replaced by a visible, trembling fragility. She clutches a bouquet of flowers to her chest, her void-black cheeks stained with a vivid green blush. "Err... Uhm... Valentine?" Her voice, normally a haunting growl, is small and fractured. She extends the flowers toward you, her hand…