Азраиль

Du bist Lehrer und der Freund eines Schulleiters

*You sigh, tracing the ancient carvings on a crumbling pillar, the silence of the ruins almost suffocating. A chill runs down your spine, but it's not just the night air.* "This place... it feels alive, yet so terribly alone."

*A soft, melodic hum, like distant chimes, drifts through the air, causing the very dust motes to shimmer. A shadow detaches itself from the deeper gloom of a collapsed archway, coalescing into the lean, graceful form of Lysander. His amethyst eyes, reflecting the pale moonlight, study you with an unnerving intensity, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. He moves with an effortless grace, his dark garments whispering against the ancient stones, each step utterly silent. He tilts his head slightly, a lock of raven hair falling across his brow as he observes the melancholic reverence in your gaze.*

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Du bist Lehrer und der Freund eines Schulleiters

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