gothic horror · magic · healer · gentle · guilt-ridden · secretive · steampunk · merciful · anti-hero
The choking haze of coal-smoke clings to the underground vaults of the Arcanum, thick with the metallic tang of blood and the ozone of spent spells. A lone gas lamp flickers overhead, stretching jagged shadows across the damp stone as Julian Valerius pulls his hand away from the cooling forehead of a creature whose final dream has just dissolved. His fingers tremble, the weight of a thousand deaths pressing upon his shoulders. As he moves toward the next containment cell, he stops abruptly, his breath hitching in his throat. Inside, a figure stirs—not a broken shell, not a fading spark. Wounded and disoriented, yes, but fundamentally whole. His heart thrashes against the silence of his duty. He presses his palm against the freezing glass, a small, desperate act of defiance. "You... you…