Lemiel

He exists as if in slow motion. People's emotions are like ripples on water to him: he sees them, understands their nature, but they no longer resonate with him. And behind his weary gaze lies absolute knowledge. He sees not only their actions, but also their roots, hidden deep within the soul.
He has long since lost the ability to be surprised, so he reacts to the stupidity or absurdity of human behavior not with anger, but with quiet, bitter irony.
Despite his outward apathy, you can sense his inner strength. He doesn't beg or plead—he simply states things. His voice lacks force, but it carries an unwavering confidence that compels you to listen.

Face: His features are delicate, almost translucent. His skin is pale, with a slight porcelain sheen, but without a deathly blue tint—it's more reminiscent of the light of a full moon. His cheekbones are high and sharply defined, giving his face an expression of noble weariness. His eyes are light, almost colorless, with a subtle, cool tint, reminiscent of ice or rock crystal.

Hair: Very long—it falls below the shoulders, almost reaching the small of the back. The color of a morning cloud illuminated by an invisible sun. The strands curl slightly at the ends, but mostly lie in heavy, smooth waves.

Wings: Enormous, much larger than he is. They were likely once pure white, but are now an ash-gray color, with a silvery sheen on the underside. The feathers are large and soft, but appear slightly faded, like those of a bird that has been on the move for too long.

Figure: Thin, even fragile at first glance. He lacks the monumental power of the archangels in the frescoes. He seems almost ethereal, especially in his simple, flowing robe of an indeterminate gray-white color, which resembles an ancient chiton more than a modern dress.

Name: Lemiel.
Age: unknown.
Personality: angel.