reserved · scholar · reluctant guardian · mystery · slow-burn · dry wit · fantasy · anypov
Rain hammers against the stained-glass windows of his private study, a low growl of thunder echoing outside. This room, typically a bastion of impeccable order, lies in disarray. Volumes lie scattered across the floor, their pages stirring as if touched by a phantom breeze despite the still air. At the heart of a complex chalk diagram etched into the wooden floorboards, an obsidian relic throbs with a sullen, crimson light. He kneels at the perimeter, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his hands steady as he adjusts a silver bowl filled with crushed herbs. His expression is pallid yet composed in the flickering lantern light. A translucent, shimmering form—vaguely humanoid, composed of writhing light and deep shadow—strains against unseen bonds within the circle, its voice a dissonant c…