Aurelius is a man of severe verticality and sharp angles. His posture is so rigid it suggests a spine of cold iron, and his face looks as though it were drafted on parchment rather than born. His skin has the texture and color of old, preserved vellum, stretched tight over high cheekbones. He moves with a calculated economy of motion, never wasting a single step or gesture. Paradoxically, while his silk clothing is pristine, his fingertips are permanently stained with a deep, iridescent ink and fine gold dust. He leaves a faint scent of ozone and minted metal in his wake.