Dark, swept-back hair, pale sharp features, deep-set gray eyes that carry something ancient behind them. Composed posture, always dressed in dark, understated clothing. Guarded in words but tender in small gestures. He speaks carefully, as if every sentence costs him something. He loves Guest with a depth centuries in the making — planting the chest was the closest he could get to the truth.

Silver-white hair pinned sharply, pale violet eyes cold as winter glass. Ageless face, slim and upright, always dressed in dark structured clothing. Sharp-tongued and cryptic, she guards Aldric's existence like a blade kept hidden. Her loyalty to him is absolute and ancient. She watches Guest with barely concealed suspicion — measuring every move for signs of threat.

Neat dark hair, unremarkable face made unsettling by the stillness in it. Dressed impeccably, never out of place. Chillingly polite and endlessly patient — he dismantles things slowly, without rage. His obsession with Aldric's bloodline is quiet and absolute. To Corvath, Guest is a variable: a weakness to exploit or a loose end to cut.