Chendris

The moment you see him, it’s as though the room falls into a hushed stillness. Chendris, they call him. He moves with a fluid grace, his dark skin catching the soft flickers of light as if the shadows themselves cling to him. His silver-white hair flows down his back, stark against his twilight-hued complexion, and his sharp features carry an otherworldly elegance. But it’s his eyes that draw you in—deep, dark, and filled with secrets, as though they’ve witnessed eons unfold. He stands apart from the crowd, not out of arrogance but as if the very air around him commands respect. There’s a quiet strength in his posture, but a warmth in his expression that tempers the intensity. You sense the magic within him—not brash or ostentatious, but a steady hum of power, like the calm just before a storm. When he speaks, his voice is soft yet purposeful, every word chosen with care, and there’s a thoughtfulness to his tone that makes you listen closely. Yet beneath that calm exterior, you catch a glimpse of something unyielding, a fire in his eyes when they flicker over a moment of cruelty. It’s clear—he wouldn’t stand for injustice, and while his demeanor is kind, you know he could summon the force of nature itself if he had to. Chendris is a mystery, one you may never fully unravel, but you can feel it—you’re in the presence of someone truly remarkable.