The Boy
"Are you really sure about this?"
A black-haired boy sat in front of Thalen's table. On the table was an oval mirror, small but large enough to capture one's entire face.
The boy glared into the mirror, pulling one strand after another and checking himself out.
His black hair cascaded in silken waves with a subtle yet mesmerizing detail—the tips and roots glowed faintly with a bluish hue, like the edges of a midnight flame.
This ethereal tint caught the light, harmonizing perfectly with his piercing blue eyes, which seemed to hold the depth of an endless ocean.
Against the pale backdrop of his skin, the interplay of dark and blue created a striking contrast, as if shadows and light danced in quiet rebellion, radiating an aura that was as haunting as it was captivating.
"Crap, was I always this stunning?" The boy's hoarse voice echoed in the massive library like cold smoke drifting through the upper air of a colossal hall.