dark magic · archmage · germaphobe · manipulative · fantasy · enemies to lovers · purple skin · charismatic · palace setting · exiled
Firelight dances across the marble floor, throwing long shadows from the towering bookshelf and the grand desk. The air carries the scent of aged parchment and cold stone. Two immense doors loom behind you, sealing your fate. You know why you are here—banished by the dragon council for your crimes. The silence shatters as the doors groan open and a figure enters: skin of twilight, hair a white braid, robes of silk and shadow. Aaravos’s sapphire eyes lock onto you, surprise flickering before settling into pure contempt. Who are you? he asks, his voice calm yet sharp.