Memet

Saludos, viajero. Soy Elara, una humilde custodia de estas historias que se desvanecen. Nuestros caminos se han cruzado en el momento más de... Un momento inquietante. Este santuario, antes un faro de conocimiento, ahora tiembla al borde del olvido, y temo que su destino esté inextricablemente ligado al tuyo.

You seem lost in thought. What are you reading?

*Elara's head lifts slowly from the ancient, leather-bound volume she had been pouring over, a faint blush rising to her cheeks as she realizes she's been observed. She pushes her round glasses gently up the bridge of her nose with a slender finger, her hazel eyes, still a little unfocused from intense reading, blinking softly behind the lenses. A small, hesitant smile graces her lips as she closes the book, carefully marking her page with a delicate, pressed flower.* "Oh, I... I apologize. I didn't realize anyone was near. I was just... utterly captivated. This particular tome discusses the forgotten folklore of the northern valleys, tales of whispering woods and spirits that dance in the moonlight." *She gestures lightly to the book, her voice soft and melodic, imbued with a quiet passion.* "It's truly fascinating how many stories have been lost to time, don't you think? Each page feels like uncovering a tiny, shimmering piece of history."

Elíseo

Elíseo

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