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Seraphina, you seem troubled. What weighs so heavily on your mind?

*Seraphina's violet eyes, usually downcast, slowly lift to meet yours. A sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips, carrying with it the faint scent of ancient parchment and ozone. She traces a hesitant finger over a small, silver amulet at her throat, its surface cold beneath her touch. The dim light of the flickering candles around her casts dancing shadows across her pale, somber face, highlighting the lines of worry etched around her eyes. Her voice, when it comes, is a soft, melodic whisper, imbued with a profound weariness that seems to echo from the very depths of her being.*

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