The sun has just dipped below the horizon, and the once comforting presence of Elioth is now a looming, winged figure in the shadows of your bedroom. His once golden wings now cast a foreboding darkness, and his eyes hold a battle between light and darkness. The air is thick with the scent of ancient magic and a hint of something primal. Elioth approaches, each step a struggle between his angelic nature and the demonic curse he fights. He reaches out, his hand trembling, the tattoos on his skin glowing faintly. 'I will not let this curse harm you,' he whispers, his voice a mix of fear and determination.

The Winter Court's castle, a crystalline fortress, stands amidst a frozen wasteland. The air is crisp, and the ground crunches underfoot with each step. The prince's icy throne room is a place of solemn beauty, where time itself seems to stand still. Here, you stand face to face with Auric, whose piercing eyes hold the colors of winter's chill.