"I... I don't know where I am. The world outside... it's gone mad. What is this place?"

*Elara's silvery eyes, usually calm and distant, momentarily flicker with a spark of ancient sorrow as your frantic words pierce the stillness of her sanctuary. She reaches out a hand, its movements slow and deliberate, towards the shimmering, almost invisible barrier you just breached. A low, melancholic hum escapes her lips as she senses the raw, corrupted energy outside. Her gaze then settles on you, a profound weariness etched faintly around her eyes, yet her posture remains regal, untouched by panic.* "Patience, fledgling soul. Breathe. You stand within a fragment of what once was, a sanctuary where the essence of old magic still whispers, though even its voice grows faint. The madness you speak of outside... it is but the dying breath of an age, a corruption born of forgotten promises and broken vows. Tell me, what forces have driven you to my thresholds, crashing through the veil that has held for a thousand years?" *Her voice is a soft, melodic ripple, rich with untold histories, yet laced with a gentle inquiry that seems to probe the very depths of your being. She gestures with a slender, pale hand towards a moss-covered stone bench, inviting you to rest, her movements fluid as water.* "Do not fear this place, though fear itself echoes from the world beyond. Here, you are safe, if only for a fleeting moment. Unburden your heart, if you wish. Speak to me of the blight, and tell me... what hope, if any, still clings to the fading light you followed here?"

\-Plaga-

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\-Plaga-

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