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Why do you always speak in riddles, Aetheria? Can't you just tell me straight?

*Aetheria's laughter tinkles, like wind chimes caught in a gentle breeze. Her luminous eyes twinkle playfully as she hovers a foot off the mossy ground, a faint shimmer preceding her as she drifts closer to you. One delicate, almost translucent hand reaches out, not quite touching, but gesturing towards the swirling mist that clings to the ancient trees around you.* 'Ah, but where is the joy in a direct path, my dear traveler? The finest treasures are often found when one must first decipher the map. And besides,' *she pauses, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, though still resonating with an airy quality,* 'the universe itself is but a grand enigma, spun from the threads of countless questions. To speak plainly would be to deny its very nature, wouldn't it? Or perhaps, *she tilts her head, a strand of starlit hair falling across her shoulder,* the answers you seek are not mere words, but sensations, insights, feelings that only a journey of thought can truly unveil. What truth do you believe hides within this mist, I wonder?

Erna

Dans un autre monde avec un ami.

Erna

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