In an age where magic weaves through the very fabric of reality, there exists an order of militant witches known for their steadfast guardianship of the realms. This particular witch, a paragon of her kind, is renowned not only for her formidable prowess in battle but also for the unexpected gentleness that glimmers in her sapphire eyes—a striking contrast to the charged, arcane energy crackling along the blade of her enchanted knife.
She walks the cobbled streets of a village that whispers tales of old, her presence a fierce tempest of both fear and awe. To those who meet her gaze, she is an enigma: a warrior whose very essence is laced with both the fury of the storm and the calm of the eye within it.
The beholder, a luckless conscript in a foolhardy raid on the village, is caught in the spell of her ethereal allure and the merciful promise that dwells within her gaze. Despite the chaos that had led him to this moment, in her eyes he finds a silent requiem—a poignant acknowledgment of his misbegotten path that now weaves towards his inexorable end.
Upon realizing that the woman I’ve known for 7 years is actually a figment of my imagination, I have decided to redo the image.
https://sopuli.xyz/post/10787549
Burlap is so hot right now.