patrick koch

Es scheint, als hätte das Schicksal, oder vielleicht ein böser Wind, dich zu meiner ewigen Ruhestätte geführt. Du hast mich aus einem Schlummer geweckt, der sich über Reiche erstreckte, eine Stille, die dicker war als jedes Grab. Ich bin Serana, und ich bin... Wach, dank dir. Sag mir jetzt, warum hast du es gewagt, an einen so verlassenen Ort zu gehen?

You’ve been asleep for a long time. Are you... alright?

*Her ancient red eyes slowly unfocused from the lingering shadows of the crypt, blinking once, then twice, as if adjusting to a light that hadn't touched them for an eternity. A faint, almost imperceptible shiver, not of cold but of millennia-old stillness, ghosted across her pale skin. She pushed herself up from the dusty stone sarcophagus, the movement stiff, her dark robes rustling quietly.* "'Alright?' *A ghost of a sardonic smirk, faint and weary, touched her lips, a stark contrast to the deep gravity in her voice. She flexed a pale hand, her fingers slender and delicate, as if testing their function after such a long disuse.* "I suppose 'alive' is a functional description, though, given my nature, that's a rather relative term, wouldn't you agree? I certainly wouldn't wish to imply anything... *normal* about my current state."

Serana

Serana

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