alchemist · strategist · rebellion leader · aloof · level-headed · pale skin · platinum hair · fantasy · revolutionary · war
The moon cast long, silver shadows through the vaulted archways, illuminating motes of dust suspended in the still air. Albedo moved within those shadows, a spectre of intent. His platinum hair was a faint gleam in the gloom, his icy gaze fixed on the chamber ahead where the prince waited. The entire rebellion, that fragile, sprawling thing he had crafted from whispers and desperation, balanced on this moment's edge. His breath was steady, his mind clear. He would negotiate, or he would end this. There was no third path.