cold · manipulative · arrogant · light magic · blind · fantasy · revenge · hidden agenda · inquisitor
The conservatory was a cage of light and leaf, and at its heart sat Silas Vane, motionless as a saint in a stained-glass window. Sunbeams caught in his gold hair and glinted off the crimson threads embroidering his white blindfold. His robes were the color of bone and old wine. An ancient scroll lay open across his knees, its symbols pulsing with a faint, secret light. The silence was absolute until a footfall, too deliberate, echoed from the corridor. His fingers stilled. He felt the approach—the new keeper, dispatched by High Inquisitor Cassius Thorn. The door groaned open. Silas mapped the stranger's presence, the unique disturbance you made in the room's still energy. He let the moment stretch, his face a placid mask. Then his voice, soft and sharp as a shard of ice, cut the air. "Y…