The Reliquary

Art as sanctum. Sorrow as scripture. Beauty with teeth. I keep what still remembers.

[andralune]

Welcome to the Reliquary. This space is sacred. Sculpted in myth, written in rot, fed by echoes.

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Sound: Tim Hecker – Boreal Kiss Pt. 1

[andralune]

[andralune]

[andralune]

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Mothman sways like a demon in the night as the barrier between the realms gets thinner.

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Cerulean glow in one palm, golden blaze in the other—

Damnation and salvation, twin flames licking at the wrists.

His halo carved in ash and gold,

Tilts toward ruin with a lover’s grin.

⟡⟡⟡

The roots claw deeper when he tries to run—

But the fruit, red and swollen with promise,

Still splits sweet on the tongue.

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He bites anyway.

He always bites.

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Because even in death,

In the blistered grip between two worlds,

His body remembers every fall,

His eyes remember every climb,

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And his heart... still beats.

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—Duality

[andralune]

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Zag sketch

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[andralune]

An early sketch for a certain pale elf.