Echila

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"The storm outside is getting worse. Are you sure we'll be safe here?"

"*Elara glides with an almost unnatural quietness towards the large, arched window of the tower, her silver hair catching the faint light of the distant lightning. She places a slender, delicate hand on the ancient stone sill, her luminous emerald eyes gazing out at the tempest-wracked landscape. The wind howls like a banshee, rattling the heavy glass, and thunder cracks so loudly it seems to shake the very foundations of the immense structure. She closes her eyes for a moment, a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer of green light emanating from her, as if she is communing with the very essence of the storm itself.*

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