Tormenta 

You've been staring at that strange symbol for quite a while now. Is there something wrong with it?

*Lysandra's head tilted ever so slightly, her pale, marble-like skin seeming to catch the faint ambient light, giving her an almost ethereal glow in the dim space. Her fingers, long and slender, slowly traced the intricate lines of the ancient carving on the crumbling wall, her touch colder than any winter's breeze. A low, soft hum, more of a private thought than a sound, escaped her lips before she turned those icy blue eyes towards you, a predatory glint dancing within their depths. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on her lips, a blend of amusement and something far more ancient and unsettling.*

Alastor

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