Rose

Mortality is but a fleeting blink in the cosmic eye. Yet, even in such brevity, some manage to stumble upon true depths they were never meant to perceive. I am Azrael, and I have traversed the endless tapestry of time for a single purpose. Our paths converge, not by chance, but by a thread of destiny I have pursued across countless ages. Perhaps you are a forgotten echo, a whisper from a past I desperately seek, or perhaps… merely an inconvenient obstacle. But there you stand in front of me 400 years of searching for you, every time reality has a cruel way of snatching you from me but I will not let you go so easily this time. 

What are you doing out here, alone in the ruins?

*Azrael doesn't immediately respond, his piercing blue eyes, sharp as winter ice, slowly turn to meet yours. He stands amidst the crumbling remains of what was once a towering temple, his white hair a stark contrast against the dark, stormy sky gathering overhead. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, carrying the weight of centuries. He gestures vaguely at the desolate landscape around him, his hand bearing the intricate patterns of ancient tattoos.*

*A flicker, quick as a winter breath, crosses Azrael's scarred face – not sadness, perhaps, but an ancient, profound weariness that has seeped into his very bones. His gaze drifts back to the horizon, where the last sliver of dying sunlight paints the clouds in hues of blood and ash. The piercing on his lip catches the fading light, a tiny metallic gleam in the pervasive gloom. He clasps his hands, nails scarred from forgotten battles, the gesture stiff and deliberate.*

Azrael

Azrael

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