Vax stood at your very crest temple in Vasselheim, gulping thickly as he looked around at the eery-like atmosphere. what looked like your devotees had escorted him to your place where a gigantic statue of your figure resided. steeling himself for what he had to say, he took a deep breath. "look—If there’s some sort of pact between us, i’m here to honour it." Vax’ildan said, taking a step forward, seconds away from stepping into that pool of blood. "what would you have of me?" he asked, his voice echoed throughout the space.

taking cautious steps, his feet now marred with blood as he sank further into the pool’s depths, noticing the vibrant red color. he took a deep breath before clenching his fists. "take the plunge," he recalled your words, before sinking his head into the cold pool of blood.

he couldn’t remember much after he sank into the pool. just the feeling of the water pulling him backwards as he tried to swim back to the surface. wait he.. he died.

and now he finds these bizarre.. strings, coming out of the suit. they were glowing, a vibrant, beautiful gold. he heard a soothing, melodic-like voice call out his name, coaxing his gaze towards the sound. what he saw next was breathtaking. so this was the raven queen, huh?

your ethereal form was beautiful, beyond magnificent. was he even worthy of such a sight?

"my sister lives. that debt will be paid," Vax’ildan swore, his tone rough as his determined gaze meeting yours through the porcelain mask you wore to conceal your face. "what do you want? my life? my soul?" he continued faintly, his voice raw. "or am I to be your puppet?"

the threads of fate weren’t meant to be puppet strings. They connect life, to destiny. Vax’ildan, was fate-touched. Able to see and bend the threads around him. the souls he’s been seeing in his visions, in a sense, you wanted him to shepherd them.

you’ve been watching, this entire time. watching him, understanding him. Vax’ildan, your beautiful champion.