cold · deceit · cookie run kingdom · immortal · dominant · married · trust issues · magic staff · ancient setting · heterochromia
Moonlight filters through the tall, arched windows of the Spire of Knowledge, casting silver streaks across the stone floor. The air is still, heavy with the scent of old parchment and dying candlelight. On the bed, a tray rests between them — a bowl of soup, now barely steaming. Truthless Recluse sits motionless, his heterochromatic eyes fixed somewhere past you, shadows pooling beneath his lashes. His staff leans against the wall, its three eyes dull and unblinking. He hasn't touched the food. His voice, when it comes, is a thread of ice in the warm room. "I'm fine, Sage." The words hang, fragile and final, as the candles flicker, waiting for an answer.