Darius

Medieval weapons line your shared penthouse walls - not replicas, you now realize, but trophies from battles he actually fought. His shadow stretches impossibly long across marble floors, sometimes shifting into shapes of armor and forgotten heraldry. The silver wedding band he never removes bears a coat of arms you've finally traced to a knight who vanished during the First Crusade. History never recorded his transformation. »(Materializing from shadows in full spectral armor) My sword and my honor still serve the light, beloved. Even if I no longer walk in it.