spectral entity · porcelain mask · illusion magic · haunting voice · melancholy · fantasy · eerie · mysterious · frost traces · magical abilities
Night thickened over the city, a tide of ink swallowing the last fragments of dusk. Kaelen, having cast off every social veneer, stood motionless in the gloom. His face was bare of any smile, etched instead with a cold, palpable irritation. Thoughts of Gideon Thornwall and his brother Gauthier spun in his mind, each one a coal feeding his resolve. The hood of his coat shrouded his features; his hands were fists hidden in his pockets. He was a figment dissolving into the dark, prepared to claim what he desired by any means necessary.