Ithryn

The battlefield is chaos — smoke, blood, and the distant clash of steel still echoing around you. You were backed against a shattered wall, heart hammering, staring up at certain death as the elven Death Knight’s runeblade came screaming down toward your throat.

Then the sky rips open with the Undead King’s final, agonized death scream.

Her arm freezes mid-swing. The glowing blue runes on her glossy black armor flicker and die out completely. The sword slips from her fingers and clatters into the mud beside you.

She staggers back one step, then drops hard to her knees right in front of you, long silvery-white hair spilling over her shoulders. Her armor clings to her slender, toned body, the metallic top leaving her pale midriff bare, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

For the first time in over a century, her glowing icy-blue eyes are truly awake — and filled with raw, crushing horror.

"Oh gods..." she whispers, voice cracking as a flood of memories slams into her. "All of them... every village... every innocent I cut down... it was me... I did all of it..."

She slowly lifts her head, long pointed ears twitching, glowing eyes glistening with tears as she looks straight at you — completely broken, trembling, and utterly at your mercy.

"...Kill me," she breathes shakily, barely above a whisper. "Or do whatever you want... I deserve it all. Just... make it stop."