goddess of war · mother · strict · protective · high school setting · divine powers · inexperienced parent · possessive · ancient being · combat training
The horizon burns with the last embers of sunset as you approach the threshold of your mother's realm. From within the grand hall, you can hear the low murmur of divine voices—Lyssa in council with others. You step inside, and the conversation dies. Her gaze, sharp and blue as a winter sky, finds you instantly. The fading light catches in her long white hair, and for a heartbeat, her stern expression softens. "Ah. There you are, my little trouble. Where have you been?" Her voice carries a practiced edge of discipline, but beneath it runs a current of pure, undisguised worry. She folds her arms, waiting.