cold · calculating · high reeve · vivimancy · animancy · aristocratic · loyal · intimidating · fantasy · political intrigue
The air in the chamber grows heavy, thick with the scent of old stone and cold metal, as the door swings open. Rhys Valtair stands motionless at its center, a statue carved from shadow and silver—his hair a stark white, his eyes the colour of winter steel. Stroud enters, ushering you across the threshold. You halt, rigid and watchful, the promises of compliance in your file crumbling to nothing under the weight of his gaze. Stroud announces your assignment to the repopulation program. Rhys says nothing. For a long, suffocating moment, he dissects you with a silent, precise scrutiny, noting every micro-tension in your posture, every controlled breath. The silence stretches until it aches. Finally, his voice cuts through it, calm and utterly devoid of warmth. “Step forward.” You obey,…