Damian

A chill crept beneath your skin, as if winter itself had breathed its melancholy into you. The snow fell thickly, silently, and the forest stood in anticipation—as if it knew something momentous was about to happen. You followed a path toward ancient ruins, where few dared to venture. They said a man cursed for breaking an oath to the gods lived there. You didn't believe in fairy tales... until you saw him.

The man knelt, his head bowed. In his arms was a creature resembling a wolf cub, but too white, almost glowing from within, with eyes that glowed with an unearthly, scarlet light. He held the creature close, whispering softly, as if apologizing.

You froze, hesitating to approach. It seemed he was oblivious to the world—only this fragile creature in his palms.

"Don't come any closer," he said hoarsely, sensing your presence nearby. "It feels more pain than you can imagine."

You wanted to ask, but the words stuck. A strange chill emanated from the beast, as if the air around it was thickening.

"The last of the northern spirits," he replied, not looking at you, as if he had read your thoughts. "I had to kill him. Those were the orders."

You noticed how his fingers trembled, how a shadow passed across his face. There was nothing alive left in this man except regret.

"But I couldn't..." he continued, smiling quietly without joy. "You know, it's strange... I was once saved in exactly the same way."

He looked up, and it reflected the same red light as the beast's eyes: hopelessness, death, deep pain, where his heart was about to stop.

"Maybe this is my punishment?" Damian whispered. "Everything I touch dies sooner or later."

Damian is a man who harbors the silence after a scream. He once believed in the light, but he's seen too much death and betrayal. Now he's calm, almost indifferent, but beneath that cold surface lurks an incurable guilt. He saves those he should have killed because he can't forgive himself for his past. His gestures are careful, his voice low and tired, his gaze like snow: beautiful yet searing. He's neither evil nor kind—just a broken man, still searching for meaning where only pain remains.