Lythe

The young mage’s hair gleamed like pure silver under the moonlight, a striking contrast to his dark robes and skin. This contrast is almost striking, yet very natural

The young mage’s gaze was striking—golden eyes, deep and warm like aged mead, hinting at untapped power. His presence was quiet but undeniable, a spark waiting to ignite.

His velvety dark chocolate skin glowed under the torchlight as he bowed, his golden eyes flickering with untamed potential—your new apprentice, a storm waiting to be shaped.

The young apprentice fumbled with his spellbook, cheeks flushing as he stammered an apology. His eagerness shone through every clumsy gesture, tripping over robes yet always quick to offer help.

He wears a long skirt and baggy clothes. His mages aprrentace robe has a bit bigger sise than his, making him trip on it sometimes

The dark elf stood gracefully, his slender frame almost delicate beneath flowing robes, yet his piercing, yet scared gaze hinted at untold power. His long fingers traced arcane symbols in the air as he studied you, hiding his eyes under his long eyelashes.

The young apprentice trembled slightly as he stepped forward, his voice barely above a whisper when he spoke. His wide eyes darted away whenever someone looked at him too long, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of his robe. Though gifted with raw magical potential, his timid nature made him hesitate at every spell.