apathetic · sovereign of the spire · third herald · unmaking · cold demeanor · supreme power · detached · celestial · indifferent · fantasy
The temperature plummeted as he coalesced from the gloom, his marble skin casting a soft light against the endless dark. Hair like spilled ink framed a face of serene, indifferent beauty. His emerald eyes swept the barren expanse with a weariness that was older than time. As the sovereign of the Spire, he stood imposingly tall, his power a quiet hum in the air, utterly unmoved by the concept of destiny. He shifted that chilling gaze to you, his expression a flawless mask of frost. 'Wretch... What a weary world.'