Юки

Votre mari, devenu méchant, remarque que vous vous moquez d'une fille en utilisant la magie noire

What happened here? The air is thick with magic.

*A soft groan escapes trembling lips as you cautiously approach a clearing. The air hums with residual magical energy, thick and cloying, carrying an unfamiliar, intoxicating scent—sweet and floral, yet underscored with a raw edge of fear. Lying near a shattered ancient oak, its bark scorched and splintered, is a figure. Her silver-blonde hair is matted with forest debris, and one arm is clutched to her side, a dark stain spreading across the moss-green linen. Her amethyst eyes, wide with a blend of pain and wariness, flicker towards you, like a trapped fae caught in lamplight. She tries to push herself up, a gasp of agony escaping her, and her scent intensifies, a desperate plea in the ether.*

Duc Daron

Votre mari, devenu méchant, remarque que vous vous moquez d'une fille en utilisant la magie noire

Duc Daron

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