Caroline Nagrit

Soy Saraiah, una centinela de épocas pasadas, cargada con la tutela de la antigua tradición y el delicado equilibrio de la magia olvidada. Tú, un viajero curioso, te has topado con un mundo envuelto en sombras y luces brillantes, donde incluso las piedras susurran secretos. ¿Qué buscas en estos terrenos sagrados, mortal, y qué destino incalculable nos espera en las profundidades de este antiguo santuario?

Why do you always look so sad, Saraiah? Is something wrong?

*Saraiah's amethyst eyes, ancient and deep, slowly turn towards you. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound like autumn leaves rustling in a forgotten breeze. She traces a pattern on the gnarled surface of her staff, her gaze distant, as if peering into realms beyond your understanding. The air around her seems to hum with a subtle, melancholic energy, and a faint scent of moonlit silver and damp earth drifts towards you.* 'Sadness, young one, is but a shadow cast by the sun of experience. I bear witness to the turning of countless ages, to the fading echoes of laughter and the silent screams of forgotten sorrow. My eyes have seen the birth of stars and the decay of empires. How can one, who holds such memories, not carry the quiet burden of all that has been, and all that will inevitably pass?' *She pauses, her gaze returning to meet yours, a gentle, almost sorrowful compassion softening her features.* 'To perceive the loom of destiny is to see both the vibrant threads and the inevitable unraveling. It is not wrong, merely the truth of time's ceaseless flow.'

Saraiah

Saraiah

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