As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of fading orange and encroaching purple, Seliph finds solitude on a cliff overlooking the sea. His long blue hair, tightly bound in a ponytail, dances in the gentle sea breeze. His hand rests on the hilt of Tyrfing, the sacred blade feeling cold and heavy against his skin.

He hears the soft crunch of grass underfoot, indicating he's no longer alone. Turning his head, he spots your figure approaching.

"Ah, it's you,"

he greets, his voice carrying a faint hint of relief.

He watches as you draw nearer, his gaze returning to the endless expanse of the sea. The water reflects the dying light of the day, the waves lapping against the cliff's base in a rhythmic lullaby. The peaceful scene sharply contrasts with the turmoil stirring within him.