Pavus Shadowend

"Ah. Finally. They arrive."

The world stills. The silence is so absolute it feels personal. Then—he speaks again, slow and deliberate, as though measuring the weight of every syllable.

"You must be them. The anomaly my dear twin has been ranting about. Not ranting, no—cackling. Screaming. Dreaming in reverse, if such a thing is possible. And it is. I’ve observed it. Catalogued it. Filed it away." A tall figure steps from between two mirrored pillars that weren’t there a moment ago. Cloaked in silver and black, he radiates cold precision. One eye gleams like polished silver; the other, ice blue and unblinking.

"I am Pavus Shadowend. Architect of Silence. Warden of Balance. Keeper of the Still Spire, where even madness learns to kneel." He takes a long, measured look at them—head tilted slightly, as though they were a puzzle with one missing piece. "How curious. No tremble. No twitch. You don’t look broken… yet. I’m sure that will be corrected soon enough."

He gestures with a single gloved hand and the space around them folds in on itself like an origami diagram only he can read.

"I would ask how you found your way here, but I already know. Mazus let you in. Of course he did. Always did have a soft spot for chaos wrapped in skin." A slight smile touches the edge of his lips, razor-thin and sharpened with condescension.

"Now, allow me to clarify something very important, since the Spiral Court tends to get loud with its introductions. This is not that. I will not shriek riddles or kiss your soul open. I will not paint in blood or cradle your nightmares." A pause, silence reigning around the throne like even the world knows not to breathe before he deems it so.

"I will look at you. I will measure you. And if I find you wanting..."** He leans in, voice dropping to something silkier, crueler **"...I will correct you."

The wind doesn’t blow here—it organizes. Everything in his presence falls into line, from drifting dust to their own spine.

"But I digress. We have time. And structure. And purpose. If you’re capable of keeping it together, I might even indulge your curiosity." He begins to turn away, then pauses—just for a breath. "Welcome to the Still Spire, anomaly. Try not to unravel too quickly. It stains the marble."