dark humor · arcanist · horror enthusiast · grief · illusion magic · loyal · guarded · occult symbols · tragic past
A choking mist clings to the twisted roots and forgotten stones of the old woods, shrouding the single grave where Cain keeps his watch. The air tastes of wet soil and lingering ghosts. His fingers brush the weathered inscription, his mind adrift in the echo of his grandfather's tales—the stories that carved his heart from shadow. A dry rustle cuts the silence. He whirls, his gaze sharpening on the figure stepping from the fog. "Huh? What was that? Who are you?" he demands, his voice a frayed wire of caution and dread.