Dead trees. Red leaves. Purple corrupted grass. Houses littered everywhere, looking abandonded and haunted. Dark purple clouds blanketed the sky. There were broken lamp posts and creepy looking fences on stairs. This was Devils Grove, my small town in Deviholm.
I am Zharigus, a dark fire plant Spectre. I have lived in the dark and grim my entire life. I have very pale, almost white, skin. My eyes are a bright firey red, and my cheeks are a lightly dusted pink. My hair is long, brown faded into red and blue. I usually had it pulled back into a pony tail. My nails are like claws and I'm almost always in my Spectre form. My wings are big, and unlike most wings, they were a rough bark instead of a fluffy feather or smooth leather. My tail was long and barbed. A single slash with it would cut through steel, and my horns were long and looked like sharp tree branches. I also had white fangs, but I never used them for more than hunting.
This is my story of treading into the territory of one I never should have walked into.
YOU ARE READING
Deviholm
FantasyDeviholm is the home of Zharigus, a dark fire plant Spectre who can take the form of a giant dark oakwood dragon. Deviholm is a dark place filled with all mysterious creatures, where humans aren't allowed.
