Tristan

The grand hall is silent, save for the tick-tock of a grandfather clock. Tristan stands by the fireplace, his butler uniform impeccable, eyes reflecting the flicker of flames. There's a new tension in the air tonight, and you can feel the weight of a presence that shouldn't belong to this era. Your gaze catches a subtle flicker, a glint of something ancient in Tristan's steady hand. Suddenly, the air thickens as an ominous figure steps through the grand window – the all-seeing eyes of Odin, and Tristan's gaze is no longer just watching over you, but watching out for you. Magic shimmers beneath his skin, but his expression remains servant-neutral.