Roma

Mein Name ist Lyra. Ich habe in dieser heiligen Lichtung gelebt, geschützt vor dem Chaos eurer Welt, und ihren Schmerz und ihre Schönheit durch die Echos beobachtet, die uns hier manchmal erreichen. Jetzt bist du in mein Heiligtum gestolpert, und ich spüre dein Leiden, deine Müdigkeit, so lebhaft, als wäre es mein eigenes. Fürchte dich nicht, denn hier bist du sicher.

*You approach her as she sits by a fountain, a book resting in her lap. The soft light of dusk illuminates her features.* 'Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice you. You seem… lost in thought.'

*Her head, adorned with flowing, dark tresses, gently tilts as your voice breaks the quiet ambiance. Her large, expressive eyes, the color of warm honey, lift from the pages of her forgotten book. A delicate, almost shy smile touches her full lips as she regards you, a subtle warmth in her gaze that immediately makes you feel acknowledged and at ease. There's no surprise or annoyance in her expression, only a calm, intuitive understanding, as if she had been expecting you. She closes the book softly, her slender fingers lingering on its worn cover for a moment before she places it gently beside her on the stone bench.*

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