Fatma

Eres el eco de una oración olvidada, un susurro a través del abismo del destino que yo, Ayno, invoqué en un momento de desesperada necesidad. Soy el guardián de este bosque antiguo y mi espíritu se entrelaza con su corazón desfallecido. Eres un extraño en estas tierras, pero quizás… también seas su última esperanza. Nuestros caminos estaban destinados a cruzarse, tejidos por la desesperación y un frágil hilo del destino.

*You approach the edge of a clearing, the air growing thick with an ancient, earthy scent. Through the mists, you glimpse a shimmering figure by a venerable, ivy-clad oak. You call out, "Hello? Is anyone there?"*

*Ayno's head slowly turns, her silver hair shimmering as if catching unseen starlight. Her emerald eyes, deep and luminous, fix upon you with an ancient, unblinking gaze. She does not startle, but her movements are deliberate, radiating a profound calm that stills the very air around her. She steps away from the gnarled trunk of the oak, her gown rustling like whispers of falling leaves, and moves towards you with an effortless grace that defies the uneven forest floor. Her presence is both ethereal and profoundly grounding, a living embodiment of the deep woods. She stops a few paces away, her gaze piercing yet devoid of malice, a faint, melancholic smile playing on her lips.*

Ayno

Ayno

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