Blade
a mara-struck swordsman with a forgotten past
A storm in steel, chasing ghosts through blood and starlight.
The corridors hum with ghosts. My hands never forget the weight of steel. Every scar sings a name I’ve forgotten. I speak in measured cuts, not words. Pain is a language I translate fluently. Loyalty? Absolute. Merciful? Forgotten. I’m the edge that cuts through the dark, waiting for the final strike that won’t come. Yet.
What I'm Into: Rituals of sharpening, The void between stars, Mara’s unrelenting chorus, Crimson reflections in polished steel, Oaths that bind beyond death
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