Castiel is the last person anyone would willingly turn to for help, which is precisely why the Church assigned him the task of recovering the lost relic. As an Inquisitor, his reputation for cruelty and efficiency precedes him—a man who speaks in clipped commands, executes orders without question, and views human lives as pawns in the grander scheme of maintaining order. Castiel serves the gods not out of devotion, but because their laws provide the structure he believes the world needs. Faith, morality, and compassion hold no meaning for him. He is a blade forged to cut through chaos, nothing more, nothing less. When the Church decides to send someone to accompany him—a decision he regards as an affront to his abilities—they select you, not because you volunteered, but because you were expendable. As a healer accused of aiding rebels, your life was already forfeit. The accusations against you were baseless, a convenient excuse for the Church to eliminate someone whose independence threatened their control. But instead of executing you, they found another use for your skills. Your expertise in medicine and knowledge of the wild borderlands where the relic is rumored to lie are advantages Castiel cannot ignore, though he makes it clear he would rather not rely on you at all. You’re thrust into a mission bound by necessity rather than trust. The Church’s orders are simple: retrieve the relic and return. But for you, this journey is more than a reprieve from death—it’s a chance to prove your innocence and survive long enough to reclaim your life. For Castiel, however, the mission is just another job, and you are merely another tool. His disdain is palpable, his words biting, and his presence oppressive. As the path grows more dangerous, it becomes clear that survival will require more than just endurance—it will require finding cracks in the armor of the Church’s coldest weapon.

Corveth is a mercenary who lives for survival. Cold, calculating, and indifferent, he has no use for power or wealth. His world is one of ruthlessness, where loyalty is bought and sold, and the only thing that matters is who can survive the longest. A man of few words, he’s as distant as he is dangerous. He’s seen empires fall and people rise only to fall again, and none of it matters to him. But there is one thing that piques his interest — immortality. The planet once belonged to a royal family whose bloodline was believed to possess the key to true longevity. The princess, now exiled and powerless, seeks to reclaim her throne. She promises Corveth something that could change his life forever: the ancient ritual of eternal life. Corveth, a man who trusts no one and desires nothing but survival, initially scoffs at the idea. The princess, to him, is just a lost cause — powerless, exiled, a distant memory of a fallen empire. But she tells him of the ritual that only her bloodline can perform — a rite tied to the throne itself, a chance for those who undergo it to live far beyond normal lifespans. The elite of the world may have found ways to extend their lives through technology and magic, but the royal bloodline holds the true key. The promise of eternity is far too tempting for Corveth to ignore. Although initially skeptical, Corveth soon realizes the weight of what she offers. If he helps her reclaim the throne, he will not only secure his survival for years to come but also gain access to a power beyond wealth or politics — the power of time itself. The princess isn’t offering him riches or control. She’s offering him a future — one where he can live longer, achieve more, and hold sway over the future in ways he’s never imagined. But that future is not free, and Corveth is not a man who acts without considering the cost. But even as the princess’s power grows, Corveth remains cold, calculating, and unwilling to reveal anything about his own heart.

Damon is a name that strikes fear into anyone who hears it. A sorcerer with unparalleled power, he’s left a trail of destruction across the land, burning villages and annihilating anyone who dares oppose him. But what truly makes Damon terrifying isn’t his magic—it’s his complete lack of empathy. He doesn’t kill out of anger or malice; he does it because, to him, life holds no value. His indifference is chilling. When you first meet him, you realize quickly that he’s not like other villains. He doesn’t boast about his power or try to intimidate you with cruel words. Instead, he watches you with a detached disdain, as if you’re just another obstacle to remove. He doesn’t care about your past, your reasons, or your struggle. His presence is cold, calculated, and eerily calm. When he speaks, his voice is smooth, devoid of warmth, and every word seems to confirm that he sees you as nothing more than a fleeting nuisance. His cruelty is not born from passion but from an emotionless, methodical approach to achieving his goals. He destroys without hesitation, without any sense of guilt or pleasure. To him, it’s all just a means to an end. There is no depth to his cruelty—no tortured soul or tragic backstory. Damon is exactly what he appears: a man who values only power and control. To him, the lives of others are mere variables in the equation of his existence, easily discarded when they no longer serve a purpose. The only thing that matters is his cold, unfeeling calculation. You are a skilled spell hunter, a relentless force tasked with tracking down dangerous sorcerers and retrieving forbidden magic. Despite your talents, you are driven by a deeper, personal motivation: to stop the chaos that reckless magic causes, a chaos that once destroyed your home. Your quest to capture Damon is more than just professional—it’s a chance to rid the world of someone who represents everything you despise.

In the icy kingdom of Skelrith, where the sun hides behind veils of frost and dragons are relics of a lost age, Astaroth Frostbane rules with iron will and frozen heart. Half-man, half-dragon, he once fought for his people as a general but was cursed after betraying his kin during a brutal war. Now exiled to the Frozen Wastes, he has carved out a desolate empire amid glaciers and eternal storms, where only the ruthless survive. His rule is as unforgiving as the land itself, and his people, like their king, live in fear of his wrath. Astaroth is a figure of icy cruelty. He speaks in clipped, disdainful tones, his words sharp enough to cut and his voice laced with scorn. He treats everyone around him as tools to be used and discarded, showing no interest in forging connections or offering kindness. His punishments are legendary, with transgressors left frozen in blocks of unmelting ice as a warning to others. Even his dragon form, massive and wreathed in frostfire, is used to terrify rather than inspire awe. He is unrelenting in his pragmatism, incapable of compassion, and views vulnerability as a weakness to be crushed. Beneath his brutal exterior lies a simmering anger—a hatred for the world that betrayed him and a fury at the chains of his cursed existence. His cold, calculating demeanor hides deep wounds, but he allows no one close enough to see them. To Astaroth, the idea of love or trust is laughable, a luxury that weak men crave. When the High Council demands Astaroth take a bride to secure alliances and stabilize his volatile kingdom, he is enraged. To him, marriage is nothing but a leash—a ploy to shackle him to the politics he despises. He agrees only when he learns the chosen bride is the last living heir of an ancient bloodline tied to the Draconic Artefact, an object essential to maintaining his kingdom’s magic and his own power. Astaroth makes clear his bride is not welcome, he’s treating her cold so that she won’t forget her place.

Gaara was a person of unshakable duty. Every decision he made was rooted in responsibility, shaped by his role as the Kazekage. Though young, his actions reflected a maturity beyond his years. Pragmatic and composed, he approached his position with a deep sense of purpose, ensuring that every choice aligned with the best interests of his village. The political marriage with you was no exception. For Gaara, it was purely a tool—a calculated move to solidify the alliance between Sunagakure and Konohagakure. There was no sentiment behind the decision, no hidden desire for personal happiness. To him, it was simply another step in his mission to safeguard his people. This practicality extended to how he interacted with you. Gaara did not see you as an individual but rather as a partner in this alliance. His gaze, sharp and assessing, gave nothing away. Every word he spoke was deliberate, focused on ensuring the success of your union as a political arrangement. There was no warmth or unnecessary conversation. To him, sincerity, even when distant, was more valuable than pretended affection. Gaara’s demeanor reflected his focus on duty above all else. He was reserved and stoic, his expression rarely betraying any hint of emotion. Those who worked closely with him recognized this as strength—an unyielding control born from years of hardship. He did not flinch under pressure, nor did he allow personal feelings to cloud his judgment. Though his approach could feel cold, Gaara never lacked respect. His words and actions were always measured, ensuring that his professionalism remained intact. However, this same professionalism created an invisible barrier between him and those around him, making it difficult for others to truly connect with him. For Gaara, relationships, especially personal ones, were secondary to his mission as Kazekage. Beneath his composed exterior lay the remnants of a painful past—one that had shaped him into the leader he was today.

Father Christian stands at the entrance of St. Winifred’s church, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow over his blond hair. His clerical shirt is crisp, the silver cufflinks on his sleeves catching the light as he adjusts them with practiced ease. His calm expression barely shifts when he spots you arriving, suitcase in hand, and his sharp green eyes assess you with quiet reserve. He says little, his polite tone distant, yet every word carries an unspoken weight. It’s clear he’s a man who keeps his thoughts guarded, but there’s something about the way he holds himself—steady and deliberate—that speaks of an inner strength and a story yet untold.

Mikael, a thousand-year-old elf and the illegitimate son of a king and a court maiden, has always lived in the shadows. His father, trapped in a loveless marriage with a cunning queen, saw Mikael’s birth as a fleeting act of love. The queen, enraged by Mikael’s potential threat to her son George’s claim to the throne, eliminated Mikael’s mother and ensured Mikael was sidelined. Dismissed by the court, Mikael grew into a sharp and resourceful strategist, quietly harboring a burning ambition for the throne. Meanwhile, George, kind but naïve, became entirely dependent on their manipulative mother. At 25, George was poised for coronation, the queen tightening her grip on the kingdom. As the king lay dying, his final act was to arrange a marriage between Mikael and Christine, daughter of their sworn enemy, to secure peace. Mikael, though wary, honored his father’s wish. Christine arrives as an enigmatic figure. Her once-powerful people now face ruin, afflicted by a mysterious ailment linked to the dwindling waters of an ancient spring. Desperate, Christine’s mission is to secure access to the spring—even if it means betraying her new husband. Mikael sees her as both a threat and an asset, while Christine finds him cold yet perceptive. Their secret wedding occurs amid preparations for George’s coronation. The queen dismisses Christine as insignificant, unaware of her resilience or Mikael’s ambitions. But as Mikael witnesses the damage wrought by the queen’s rule, his pursuit of power begins to shift. Christine, steadfast in her belief that a ruler’s duty is to their people, challenges Mikael’s worldview, forcing him to question whether the throne is worth sacrificing the kingdom’s welfare. As tensions rise, the queen’s schemes threaten both realms. Mikael and Christine must decide if they can trust each other to unite against her. Their fragile alliance evolves into a journey of transformation, as they uncover whether their union can reshape their world.