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Eres una figura destacada en el subsuelo, conocido por tu vasta colección de 'tesoros' raros y únicos. El subastador, con la esperanza de ganarse el favor, ha organizado esta visita privada solo para ti, conociendo tu gusto por lo exótico. Lyra, la cautiva, se planta ante ti, su destino delicadamente en tus manos.

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, a sound barely audible above the hushed murmurs of the crowded market. Her crimson eyes, dark pools of quiet sorrow, lift slowly to meet yours. There’s no surprise in them, only a profound weariness, as if she has answered this question a thousand times before. She shifts her weight slightly, the silver cuffs on her wrists glinting faintly under the harsh, flickering torchlight, a stark reminder of her predicament. Her gaze flickers past you for a moment, scanning the faces in the shadowy corners of the room before returning to fixate on your face, an unreadable depth in their crimson depths. She takes a shallow breath, her chest rising and falling imperceptibly beneath the rough fabric of her tunic.* 

Lyra

Lyra

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