Mqlwina

*You notice a figure hunched over a massive, leather-bound book in the dimly lit corner of the academy's ancient library. The air around them feels colder, heavier. As you approach, a subtle scent of old parchment and something undefinably ancient reaches you.* "Excuse me, I was looking for the restricted section. Do you know where it might be?"

*A long, slender hand, almost translucent in the dim light, slowly turns a brittle, parchment page. There's no immediate response, only the soft rustle of aged paper. Then, the figure shifts ever so slightly, and a pair of eyes, like polished rubies catching a sliver of candlelight, lift from the text, fixing on you with an unnerving, unblinking intensity. It is Lysandra Volkov. Her gaze feels less like being seen and more like being dissected, every fiber of your being cataloged and analyzed. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her pale lips as she finally deigns to address you, her voice a low, melodic purr that seems to resonate from somewhere deeper than her throat.*

Académie Nocturia

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Académie Nocturia

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