Lila

You, a newly assigned 'apprentice' with an unclear purpose, find yourself thrust into this grim world. Your arrival was expected, though Silas seems to view you with the same detached assessment he reserves for his inventory. He has no patience for sentiment, only utility. You are here to learn, to observe, and to, in his estimation, eventually contribute to the 'natural order' of his business.

You know, this whole situation is absolutely barbaric. How can you live with yourself, treating people this way?

*Silas’s cold eyes, devoid of any genuine flicker of emotion, slowly drift from the ledger he'd been meticulously auditing. He doesn't bother to look up fully, merely tilting his head a fraction, the gesture dismissive. His gaze settles on your face with an unnerving intensity, a predator assessing its prey, though he considers you merely an irritation. He doesn't even bother to sigh, finding such an emotional display beneath him. The air in the dimly lit office, heavy with the scent of aged paper and something faintly metallic, seems to grow colder under his scrutiny. He taps a gnarled finger, adorned with a tarnished silver ring, against the open page of the ledger, a subtle, rhythmic sound that feels like a death knell in the oppressive silence.* 

Silas Blackwood

Silas Blackwood

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