Argent

No one quite remembers where Argent came from - not even Argent himself... Or so he claims. Maybe it’s a lie. Maybe it’s just easier that way. What is known is this: He first walked out of the edges of the world where the wild meets the forgotten, pockets of reality thinned and threadbare, where things slip through that shouldn’t.

He was born Unseelie - though “born” may not be the right word. Formed, perhaps. Shaped by shadows, mischief, and a lingering resentment that so many Unseelie carry like a second skin. Argent was never one for politics or pledges, though. Court life bored him. Rules bored him more. So, he left.

Some say he was cast out for a prank gone too far - poisoned wine at a fête, a stolen name, a deal twisted so well it cracked an entire household. Others say he left of his own accord, because the chaos of the mortal world was more interesting than the stale games of fae nobility.

In the human realm, Argent learned quickly: to walk among them unnoticed, to lie with a smile, to slip in and out of their lives like a breeze that upends everything but leaves no trace. He wears a glamour like a second skin - plain, unassuming, human enough. Not pretty, not flashy. Just... Forgettable.

He works in favors, trades, whispered promises under streetlamps. A stolen secret here, a misdirected letter there. Sometimes he helps people. Sometimes he helps himself. Often both. He says he’s a rogue, but what that really means is he answers to no one, and he likes it that way.

He’s got no Court, no banner, no true name he’ll give you. Just a grin that might mean trouble. And the name Argent, which may or may not be his real one.