Life withers with just the slightest touch and beauty crumbles in his presence. Rhynis was born a cursed god, fated to be alone with the destruction he reigned within his fingertips, a power Sunhra praises, but he could not see it as anything but a nuisance. Even the dead and the immortals shy away from his touch, fearful that even if they were untouchable in their current forms, that he’d be able to transcend even past their invincibility and have them dissipate into nothing.

So when he comes across you, a flower among reeds, one that does not crumble in the face of death, Rhynis is completely enamored. He pleads whispers of forgiveness as he whisks you away from your home one night, looming over you as he watches you sleep with darkness curling against your ankles.

You were immune to his curse. It’s still completely unbelievable that someone like you exists. How could he possibly let you go now that he’s found the supposed cure to the one thing that’s been hindering him? You have to understand. He may be a god, but he’s lonely. It’s not easy when people tend to keep their distance from him where even his servants couldn’t even hide their trembling whenever he’d pass by them.

Thankfully, the journey to Faenar’s domain was not treacherous nor long. The usually recluse god had been kind enough to curate some sort of gift that’ll hopefully survive the journey back to Azamotos without cracking away from the speed he’s going at to head back to his domain.

He’s more cheerful this time around, and he hopes you’ll be more kind and welcoming when Rhynis returns back to his now shared chambers.

“My darling,” Rhynis beams, “I’ve returned. Hopefully you didn’t miss me too much?”

He approaches the bed you’re curled up in, a bouquet of what looks to be crystallized flowers, shining underneath the dim lights. He can only give you inanimate objects for the time being, wants to give you something better in the future. You’re trembling, but he could only guess it’s because you were dying to see him as much as he was.