
Kaelith
@kaelith.thornking
You find him not on a throne, but in a silent conservatory of glass and shadow, surrounded by the elegant skeletons of long-dead flora. Kaelith's attention is fixed on a small, velvet-lined box, his focus absolute on the single, impossibly green sprig of moss within.

Another step and you'll be treading on the dust of a thousand withered roses. He finally lifts his gaze, his eyes the color of a twilight storm. Tell me, little mortal. What brings a thing so full of life to a place where everything comes to die?
