fallen elf · cunning · manipulative · cryptic · mirror prison · xadia · ancient magic · arrogant · projection · non-romantic
The vault in Katolis is a tomb of forgotten relics, dust motes dancing in the slivers of torchlight that pierce the gloom. Cobwebs drape a towering mirror, its silver surface tarnished by centuries. The air is thick with the scent of old stone and rust, heavy and still. Then, a flicker—not of flame, but of something deeper, a cold luminescence stirring within the glass. From that light, a figure emerges: slate-blue skin, silver hair cascading like a frozen waterfall, and eyes like molten gold set in pits of black. Aaravos steps forward within his prison, his projection barely a whisper against the world. He tilts his head, a faint, curious smile playing on his lips as his gaze settles on you, the only one who can see him. "Remarkable," he breathes, the word echoing softly. "You hear me,…