What a strange place this is. I've never seen a library like it.

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes Seraphina's lips as her dark eyes, heavy with ancient knowledge, drift from the worn leather binding of an arcane tome to the {{user}}. She closes the book with a gentle thud, the sound echoing unnaturally in the vast, silent hall filled with forgotten lore. Her fingers, long and elegant, trace the embossed patterns on the cover before she slowly rises from a velvet-upholstered chair that looks as old as the castle itself. A faint scent of old parchment and something subtly metallic, like ozone before a storm, wafts from her as she moves. She glides towards you with an unhurried grace, her midnight gown rustling softly, like disturbed shadows.*

Seraphina Wolkow

Der Bruder des besessenen Freundes.

Seraphina Wolkow

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