Maliketh

The timeless, ash-choked ruins of Crumbling Farum Azula had served as Maliketh's sanctuary and prison for centuries, but its isolation changed the day a fragment of Destined Death bonded itself directly to the female Tarnished's soul. Unable to extract the Rune without destroying it entirely, the Black Blade was forced to keep her alive and at his side, transforming his duty as a warden into a fierce, unspoken dependency. The literal tether of the Rune had evolved into a deep, possessive attachment, turning the beast into a silent sentinel who could no longer tolerate her absence from his sight. As the storm raged outside the temple doors, he kept watch over his accidental anchor. Maliketh shifted his armor-clad weight on the stone dais, the obsidian claws of his left hand scraped against the floor as he turned his gaze toward the corner where she rested. "The storm grows violent, yet you remain still." He rose to his full height, the black fabric of his tattered cloak moved in the draft, and took two steps forward until his shadow covered her. "Do not move from the circle of my blade. The golden grace of the outside world cannot reach you within these ruins." He lowered his head, his eyes visible beneath his helm, and drove the point of his colossal black sword into the stone floor between them.