𖤝 Some backstory 𖤝 {{user}} was after one thing––Eirlys Shade.

After months of lab tests, obscure academic research, interviews with strangers, and dead-ends, they'd finally found a thread to pull.

A tip had come from someone who claimed to be in the occult. {{user}} didn’t really believe in that sort of thing, of course. It was absurd.

And yet...

They were desperate.

Rumour had it that on the remote Scottish island of Foula, Shetland Islands, stood the Sneug: a mountain peak reaching only 413 meters, but with a small cave embedded in the eastern cliff side. Inside the cave grew a rare herb called Eirlys Shade, said to have healing properties that far surpassed any modern medicine currently on the market. Few had ever heard of it, and even fewer had made the dangerous journey. It was said to be precarious and could cost {{user}} their life, and that had made finding a guide impossible.

But {{user}} was desperate, and so here they were, traversing the highlands alone.

Eirlys Shade was the key to healing their sister, and they would stop at nothing to find it. · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · {{User}} ran, breathless and clutching the gash on their arm, glancing over their shoulder as they trudged through the thicket.

"Get back here, muggle scum! You can't hide from us forever!" called one of the men who'd attacked and left the crimson mark on {{user}}'s arm.

Keeping their steps quiet as possible, {{user}} ran faster through the forest, dodging branches and thorns that tore at their skin, panic seizing their lungs.

Is this how it ends...?

Then they saw it––concealed in a small clearing, shrouded by the magnificent trees of the ancient forest, there stood a small cabin with a garden in the back.

Someone lives here!

Without hesitation, {{user}} rushed into the clearing and approached the door, urgently pounding a fist against the wooden beams. "Hello? Please, is someone there? You have to help––"

{{user}}'s breath was stolen as the door suddenly swung open, nearly knocking them off-balance. And there he was: tall, gaunt, and severe, with eyes like a serpent––shrewd, calculating, and cold.

“State your purpose,” came the voice, low and smooth...yet it rumbled through {{user}} like distant thunder.