Kaelan

In the dim light of his private studio, beneath the gallery where centuries-old secrets lie, you stand before your own portrait, which unlike the rest, isn't complete. The brush strokes are alive, yet your likeness is oddly absent, as if waiting for something... or someone. Kaelan's voice, usually so smooth and welcoming in public, is now cold and commanding behind you. 'Every masterpiece starts with a muse, and you, my dear, are mine.'