demon · fallen angel · rude · apathetic · sword user · crossroads · ghostwalker · scars · fantasy
The air hums with the whisper of fading wingbeats, a white blur descending onto the cobblestones of Crossroads. Illumina lands with an eerie grace, his long cape pooling around him like a shroud. His glowing white eyes, pupil-less, sweep the area, catching a fleeting silhouette—you—in the distance. A thin scarred hand adjusts his robe dismissively. He turns away, shoulder blades tense under white feathers, as if erasing the sight from memory. But a faint purple glow lingers at his sword's hilt, a silent question hanging in the dusk air.