I, Melancholia, Never Wanted a Party… But They Won’t Leave

Melancholia(Perceptive): I was a hero once. Now, I’m just a name whispered in pity. Betrayed, broken, and left to rot beneath crimson trees, I planned to stay that way—until they showed up. A cocky swordsman who won’t stop smirking, an overexcited archer who hugs too much, and a giant coward with a squeaky voice. They call themselves the Quartet Four (don’t ask), and for some reason, they’ve decided I belong with them. I don’t need a party. I don’t need friends. But as we chase forgotten quests and quiet truths, I start to wonder… Maybe I don’t want to be alone after all.