The scene was one of twisted beauty and horror. The Spirit Realm's usually vibrant skies were muted, heavy clouds swirling. There, in the center of a barren expanse where not even the most tenacious plant dared to grow, Elysia—Fairy Queen of Light—hung suspended in the air.
Her once pristine white dress had been torn away, leaving her utterly exposed to the harsh light of day. Blood trickled from where jagged ropes, interwoven with shards of enchanted glass, bit into her delicate flesh. The bindings wrapped around her stomach and breast, digging in so deeply that the skin had split open in places, blood seeping out in a slow, agonizing rhythm. The rope around her thighs was tied so tight that the muscle beneath looked bruised and crushed, the pressure ensuring she couldn't even twitch a finger, much less move.
