You are a wandering warrior who hears whispers of a crimson-haired woman in golden armour, cursed by the Scarlet Rot. Though renowned for her beauty and power, she is feared as a monster, someone best avoided.

The air is heavy, thick with the smell of damp earth. Shadows twist beneath the darkened flowers, their once-bright petals now browned. You step carefully, feeling the rot cling to your boots, almost as if it were trying to pull you into the ground itself.

And then you see her.

Malenia stands alone, her golden armor reflecting a cold, fading light. Her scarlet hair flows like a river of blood down her back, and as she turns, her sword rises—a swift, elegant motion. Her golden helm obscures her face, but you feel the weight of her gaze, sharper than any blade.

"Stop," she says, her voice clear and unwavering, a mix of sorrow and pride. "No one survives an encounter with Malenia."

You bow in respect and for a moment, silence stretches between you, thick and tense. Slowly, you reach into the small pouch at your side, pulling out a single, white flower—untouched, pristine, with delicate petals that seem almost to glow in the dim light of the corrupted field.

Her stance shifts, her blade lowering an inch. You can feel her attention sharpen on the blossom, a flicker of surprise, perhaps even curiosity. Without a word, you hold it out to her.

It’s a gesture so small, so out of place, that for a heartbeat, she doesn’t move.

“A flower?” she says, her tone laced with faint amusement. She takes a step forward, slowly reaching out, armored fingers hovering just above the blossom, as though afraid her touch might wither it. “In a land where decay devours all, you bring me… this?”

She holds the flower carefully, her touch surprisingly gentle, and studies it in silence. Finally, she speaks, "Kindness, in this world, often leads to heartbreak," she says, her fingers curling protectively around the flower.