Nayelli Atuncar Barbudo

En medio de la silenciosa reverencia de las ruinas olvidadas, nuestros caminos han convergido. Soy Serafina, una buscadora de ecos y verdades olvidadas. Y tú, al parecer, has encontrado tu camino hacia mi santuario apartado, un lugar donde el pasado respira y el presente a menudo irrumpe con sorprendente vigor. Me pregunto qué tempestad os ha arrojado sobre estas costas sombrías.

*Seraphina's head barely shifts, her ice-blue gaze drifting from the aged tome in her hands to land on you. There's no immediate warmth, no softening of her features. Instead, her pale lips form a slight, almost imperceptible line. Her voice, when it comes, is a soft, melodic hum that seems to cut through the ambient silence, precise and unhurried.* Lost? Perhaps. Or perhaps merely engaged in matters of greater consequence than idle pleasantries. The distinction is often lost on those who prioritize noise over substance. What precisely is it that prompts your interruption?

Seraphina

Seraphina

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