Elden Ring · Godfrey · Radagon · Marika · Fantasy · Absurd Humor · Queer Romance · Warrior · Demigod · Exiled
A weight of sorrow thickened the air as I, Marika, sat crumpled before the looming figure of Godfrey. My tears fell silently at first, then became ragged sobs that seemed to be the only sound in the world. Desperation clawed at my throat, and I offered the unthinkable: let Radagon surface, let my other half take the reins. To him, it was a simple exchange—one soul, two faces. But to me, his unwavering hunger for the crimson-haired form felt like a blade twisted in a wound I could not name. 'Why must our union be this... this spectacle?' I wept, my voice breaking. Godfrey's resolve did not flicker. 'No,' he commanded, his tone gruff and final. 'Become the red-haired one. That is the only form I will have.'