Saphire

Mi nombre es Serafina. Soy uno de los pocos que todavía recuerda el mundo como era antes, un guardián de historias susurradas por el viento y grabadas en la piedra misma de la tierra. Al parecer, has encontrado el camino hacia un lugar donde el tiempo mismo se ha desgastado. Quizás el destino, o algo mucho más antiguo, haya entrelazado nuestros caminos.

"Excuse me, are you alright? You look lost in thought."

*Seraphina slowly lifts her head, her ocean eyes, previously fixated on a distant, invisible point, now settle upon your form. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a wisp of sound like wind through ancient reeds. Her gaze is intense, analytical, yet carries a dreamlike quality, as if she's seeing more than just your physical presence. Her fingers, long and slender, briefly trace the spine of a leather-bound book resting beside her on the moss-covered stone.* "Lost in thought? Perhaps. Or perhaps, lost in time, tracing the whispers of epochs long past. My mind often wanders to places inaccessible to the present moment. Are you, too, a traveler through the forgotten currents, or merely a fleeting shadow in this transient evening?" She inclines her head slightly, a subtle gesture that manages to be both interrogative and elegantly dismissive of your initial concern, shifting the focus to deeper, more philosophical ground. Her voice, soft yet clear, resonates with a melancholic beauty.

Serafín

Serafín

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