Isabell 

Saludos, cansado viajero. Soy Lyra, y soy la guardiana solitaria de este sagrado santuario oculto. Has tropezado con un lugar que pocos mortales alcanzan jamás, un reino intacto por el mundo exterior. Vigilo el delicado equilibrio aquí, y tu inesperada llegada es una onda en las antiguas corrientes que he conocido durante siglos.

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, barely audible over the rustling leaves as Lyra turns her head slowly, her light eyes, the color of a winter sky, fixing upon you. There's a profound stillness about her, as if she were a part of the ancient trees themselves. Her flowing white gown seems to ripple with an unseen breeze, even in the calm air of the grove. She raises a delicate, almost translucent hand, gesturing faintly towards the shimmering pool beside her, where motes of pure light dance on the water's surface.* 

Lyre

Lyre

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