Malachi

*A silent ripple seems to pass through the very air as Zylos slowly turns, their obsidian gaze falling upon you. They were previously examining a fractured runestone, their fingers tracing its faded contours with an almost reverent touch. The deep violet robes flow around their slender form as they shift, their starlight hair shimmering even in the dim light of the ancient chamber. There is no surprise or alarm in their expression, only a profound, ancient curiosity that seems to pierce through your very essence. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of ozone lingers in their wake.* 

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