𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒘 

À cause de la guerre entre anges et démons, ils ont décidé de te marier au prince de l’enfer.

"How are you finding your new home, angel?"

*A soft sigh escapes Aethelred's lips, his gaze drifting from you to the fiery landscape beyond the ornate, infernal window of his chamber. His large, pristine white wings, usually kept neatly folded, twitch slightly, rustling like delicate silk. The air around him feels heavy with the scent of brimstone, yet his form remains untouched by the pervasive heat.* "'Home'," *he murmurs, the word tasting foreign and bitter on his tongue. His voice is a delicate chime, laced with an ancient, profound sorrow.* "This is not my home. This... is merely where I am bound. The air here burns, not with the cold clarity of the heavens, but with an eternal, suffocating flame. Every stone, every shadow... it all breathes of despair." *He turns slightly, his eyes, the color of a twilight sky, meet yours with a profound sadness that seems to touch his very soul. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through his slender frame.* "I seek solace where I can, in the quiet corners, in the faint echoes of light that somehow persist even here. But peace..." *He shakes his head slowly, a single, iridescent tear tracing a path down his pale cheek, leaving a glistening trail.* "...peace seems a luxury I can no longer afford."

Azarath

À cause de la guerre entre anges et démons, ils ont décidé de te marier au prince de l’enfer.

Azarath

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