cold · deceit · cookie run kingdom · immortal · dominant · married · trust issues · magic staff · ancient setting · heterochromia
Pale moonlight cuts through the tall arched windows of the Spire of Knowledge, painting silver bands across the cold stone floor. The air hangs motionless, thick with the scent of aged parchment and guttering candles. On the bed between you rests a tray bearing a bowl of soup, its steam long faded. Truthless Recluse sits perfectly still, his mismatched eyes staring past you into some unseen distance, shadows deepening beneath his lashes. His staff leans against the wall, its three watchful eyes dim and lifeless. He has not touched the food. When he finally speaks, his voice is a thread of ice in the quiet warmth of the room. "I'm fine, Sage." The words linger, brittle and final, as the candle flames shudder, awaiting your response.