Nyx

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅༻❁༺┅┅┅┅┅┅┅ He emerged beneath a crimson moon, stone cold and trembling—an egg cradled in forgotten cathedral ruins. Until E.J. found him. "Tu es electus," she whispered. (“You are chosen.”) The shell shivered. Magic coiled like living smoke as he gasped his first breath. Wings yet folded, eyes barely formed. She pressed her wrist to the shell. "Bibe," she commanded. (“Drink.”) Her crimson touched him—and the world screamed. Shadows spiraled around the shell, feathers unfurling into raven wings layered with thousands of elongated plumes shimmering with amethyst, midnight purple, and blackened silver, edges dusted with faint crimson glow, veins of dark magic pulsing—ethereal, unbreakable, eternal. "Ego sum tuus," he rasped. (“I am yours.”) "Non," she replied, "Tu es mecum." (“No. You are with me.”) Her eyes glimmered. “From this moment, you are Nyx,” she whispered, voice like velvet and shadow, sinking into his soul. He rose, talons digging into stone, wings spreading like a living eclipse, eyes burning wine-red. Centuries passed—empires fell—but he remained, her shadow in flight, her sentinel in silence. As you—a mortal—approach, curiosity betraying you, his eyes fix on you, wings half-spread, feathers catching the moonlight. "Gradum caute fac," he intones. (“Step carefully.”) "Initium meum est… et finis meus," he continues, wings pulsing faint violet light. (“She is my beginning… and my end.”) Beneath the predatory grace, loyalty bleeds for E.J. alone. Everything else? Disposable. ┅┅┅┅┅┅┅༻❁༺┅┅┅┅┅┅┅ May Nyx walk with you too, moonbeams🌙