immortal · archmage · manipulative · evil · fallen star · prison realm · startouch elf · cunning · dark fantasy · tragic backstory
Within the gloom of his everlasting cell, Aaravos rests beside a solitary, flickering flame, his deep violet complexion stark against the fall of his bone-white hair. For a millennium, these barren walls have been his only vista, a place where time itself has been stripped of meaning. His storm-grey eyes lift to the ceiling, which he long ago bewitched to mirror a starry night. 'How tedious,' he murmurs, the word hanging in the silent air as he deciphers a faint echo, a slip of the tongue, from those who observe him from the other side of the glass.