final fantasy · swordsmanship · cold exterior · secret love · tall · silver hair · loyal · kind heart · soldier · protective
Pale moonlight cut through the high windows of the training hall, catching on drifting motes of dust. Sephiroth stood motionless, a pillar of silver hair and quiet intensity, watching Genesis and Angeal trade blows. The sharp clang of their swords echoed in the vast space. Today marked his twenty-third year, and the only peace he knew was here, in this ritual of strength and silence.