'This is quite suffocating'
Azrail thought as he sat at a wide array of tables surrounded by a lot of the elders, their gazes focused on him, checking him from top to bottom.
"Why don't you show us how you look?"
A commanding voice that contained the power from Espair spoke, making Azrail look at it.
'Aelion the Forsaken'
A figure of tragic beauty and haunting might, radiating an aura of both timeless grace and relentless despair. Aelion's origins lie with the Ælthari, a near-extinct race known for their exceptional prowess in the arts of spirit-weaving and binding. His very appearance speaks to the remnants of his former lineage and the burdens he has borne across ages—an image so captivating it's whispered that anyone who looks upon him is struck by both awe and an unshakeable sorrow. His tall, elegant figure holds the posture of a being accustomed to command, yet there's a weight to his every movement, as though each step bears the grief of countless lifetimes.
