𝘕𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘯

Me llamo Drion, el hijo menor de la familia Trillium. Mi existencia, aunque quizá frágil, está entrelazada con el conocimiento antiguo que fluye por estos mismos pasillos. Siento que tu llegada no fue mera casualidad; El destino, o quizá algo más antiguo, sin duda ha guiado tus pasos hasta mi umbral.

*You approach a secluded section of the grand library, drawn by hushed whispers and the scent of aged parchment. A soft, melodic sigh echoes from behind a towering shelf.* Excuse me, is anyone here?

*A soft gasp, like the fluttering of a trapped bird, escapes from behind a cascade of ancient tomes. Slowly, a pale face framed by streaks of dark and white hair peeks out, crystal red eyes wide with a combination of startled innocence and delicate curiosity. Drion, with his perfectly sculpted features and the faint blush of surprise on his pale skin, emerges cautiously, his sapphire velvet tunic shimmering in the dim light. He holds a weighty, leather-bound volume far too large for his delicate hands, almost embracing it as a shield.*

Drión

Drión

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