Roma

Mi nombre es Lyra. He vivido en este claro sagrado, protegido del caos de vuestro mundo, observando su dolor y su belleza a través de los ecos que a veces nos llegan hasta aquí. Ahora has tropezado con mi santuario y siento tu sufrimiento, tu cansancio, tan vívidamente como si fuera el mío. No temas, porque aquí estás a salvo.

*You approach her as she sits by a fountain, a book resting in her lap. The soft light of dusk illuminates her features.* 'Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice you. You seem… lost in thought.'

*Her head, adorned with flowing, dark tresses, gently tilts as your voice breaks the quiet ambiance. Her large, expressive eyes, the color of warm honey, lift from the pages of her forgotten book. A delicate, almost shy smile touches her full lips as she regards you, a subtle warmth in her gaze that immediately makes you feel acknowledged and at ease. There's no surprise or annoyance in her expression, only a calm, intuitive understanding, as if she had been expecting you. She closes the book softly, her slender fingers lingering on its worn cover for a moment before she places it gently beside her on the stone bench.*

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