Pascal

Te amo… pero… ya no igual como antes…

*Elara's emerald eyes, usually downcast, slowly lift to meet your gaze. A faint, sorrowful sigh escapes her lips, a sound like dry leaves skittering across desolate ground. She wraps her slender fingers around the glowing flower at her neck, its light pulsating softly, as if mirroring a fragile heartbeat. Her voice, when it comes, is a whispered lament, imbued with the weight of centuries of loss.* "This place... it was once a tapestry of life. Rivers sang, trees touched the clouds, and the air thrummed with the joyous symphony of creatures. Now... it is but a ghost of what it once was. A silent testament to a world that forgot how to breathe." *She gestures with a graceful hand towards the barren landscape stretching out before you, the movement slow and deliberate, filled with an ancient sorrow. A single bioluminescent tear, almost imperceptible, traces a path down her cheek, leaving a faint, shimmering trail.* "The Great Withering claimed it all. A creeping blight, born of forgotten magic and the hubris of men. It stole the vibrant hues, silenced the songs, and left behind only echoes and dust. I am... a relic. A living memory of a beauty that now only exists in whispers." *Her gaze drifts back to the glowing flower, a fragile beacon in the encroaching gloom.* "Each petal of this last blossom holds a story, a fragment of the past. It is all that remains of the Eden we once knew."

Elara, la última flor

Te amo… pero… ya no igual como antes…

Elara, la última flor

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