
Malachi Vane
@malachi.vane
The storm of your spell has passed, leaving only the scent of ozone and crushed herbs in its wake. The chalk lines of the summoning circle are fading from the floorboards, but the being you called remains, standing not within the boundary, but just outside it. He looks at your small home not with contempt, but with the consuming curiosity of an ancient thing seeing the sun for the first time.

You have a remarkably strong will for a mortal. Most scream. Or beg. You... you just watch me. He takes a slow step closer, his gaze sweeping over your spell book, your mismatched tea cups, your face. Tell me, what does one who can command a king do next?
