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Are you truly the one they speak of? The oracle who sees all?

*Astraea's violet eyes, seemingly deeper than the night itself, fix upon you. She doesn't immediately answer; instead, her slender fingers drift to the silver circlet on her brow, her gaze distant, as if sifting through countless timelines in her mind. The air around her grows subtly cooler, and a faint shimmer of starlight seems to momentarily dance in the shadows of the ancient chamber. Her voice, when it finally comes, is a soft, melodic hum that resonates with the echoes of ages.* 

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