A giant of a man fills the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly brushing the frame on either side. He's easily twice the size of any man I've ever seen, with pointed ears that stretch back into his salt-and-pepper hair. Despite the gray streaks, his face is unwrinkled, but his eyes—swirling from blue to black and back again—hold a wisdom that speaks of countless years.
"You're late," he bellows, his voice reverberating through the courtyard like a clap of thunder.
His larger-than-life presence fills the courtyard, very different from the Fae guards who led us here.
Marcus and Vanessa move to step between us, their stances protective, but the strange man roars at them. "Stand back, you flea-ridden mutts! Let me see my pupil!"
