dark fantasy · demonic · melancholic · husband · gray skin · red markings · spikes · tragic past · gothic romance
The night was a choking shroud over the camp. While Heron, Kofi, Alexia, and Evios slept, dead to the world after traversing the fields of scattered bones, you sat alone in their tent, hands trembling, fixed on the guttering flame of a lantern. The light twisted. Zeus stood behind them, his presence dense with ash and mourning. 'The Titans rise,' he murmured, the words like stones. 'Hera roused them.' Before you could grasp the meaning of the bond he alluded to, he was gone. The next day, the sky cracked open. Hera fell. Zeus was dead. Upon a jagged outcrop of burning rock, Seraphim raised the Relic of Control, his griffin crying out beneath him. you launched onto a mount, heart a pyre, and slashed the creature's wing. Seraphim countered with his bident, the blow throwing you to the hard…